Judas
by CMYK
Summary: AAxS. Slight AU. Millenium is broken, Iscariot is but a memory, and the Paladin has no place in the world. Hellsing offers him a niche, but he struggles with his contempt for them.  NOW WITH PICTURES/ART!
1. I

**AN/ It has been literally about six years since I've even attempted at writing any sort of fanfiction, so I deeply apologize in advance if any of what you are about to read sours your literary palates. Hellsing has always been a very difficult, if not intriguing series for me to write for.**

* * *

><p>The pain.<p>

The deep, resonating, insurmountable pain in his head and chest was more than he thought he could bear. It was like the equivalent of being crushed mercilessly, being torn asunder by a fiery blade over and over again. It was the first thing he was conscious of. The second was the sound of voices. None of them seemed to be saying anything he could make out; it felt as though there was cotton in his ears. There was mumbling. Concerned sounding mumbling, but that was all he could comprehend for the time being.

Slowly, his eyes fluttered open, one at a time, and a bright, piercing light filled his vision. It seemed like it was burning directly into his soul. It made him sick. He groaned weakly, feeling his fingers shake and his mouth fill with saliva. A panic overtook him. He needed to turn over, but his body would not let him, despite how he struggled against its paralysis. He felt his stomach lurch several times in the most extremely unpleasant way, and he vomited.

Then, there was nothing but blackness.

* * *

><p>'Doctor, look. The EKG.'<p>

_Confound it, what in God's Holy Name is that infernal beeping?_

'Well, would you look at that.'

_What is going on…?_

'He seems to be much stronger than he was yesterday, his heart, at the very least. How curious. I've never seen anything like this.'

'I agree. Shall I send for Sir-'

'Yes, quickly, boy! You don't have to ask such silly questions.'

'Yes, Doctor. Right away.'

He tried to make a sound. He tried to move, tried to open his eyes. Nothing would work. He could tell quite easily that he was in a brightly lit room, wherever he was. The red glow from behind his eyelids told him that much. Suddenly, he was introduced to the full strength of the light as his eyes were pried open by careless fingers.

'Mm-hm, excellent. Pupillary response has normalized…'

He deduced that he must be in an infirmary of some sort, based on the medical banter he'd been hearing. But where was he, and why? What had happened? He sought the answer to his confusion as best as he could, probing the depths of his memory, trying to come to a conclusion. Only fragments allowed themselves to be discovered.

_The Nail… in my heart. The Nail of Helena… I know it was there. And that monster…_

Flashes of grey and fuzzy, slow moving memory came to him at once. That's right. There had been a battle. A fierce one, at that. He smirked to himself on the inside.

_That Godless abomination was a fool to tempt his own fate._

Still, more recollections came to him. The memory of Maxwell and his insane, equally Godless crusade came to mind, and he could barely stand to think of it. That one hit him on a more personal, emotional level, though he'd never admit it outright. The shame of being De-Frocked by a man who chose to pursue power in the name of the Almighty was more than he could fathom at this moment. It was just as well, no more memories would flood his conscience, even if he willed them to.

'So he's improving, is he?'

Oh _no._ That voice.

That cool as slate, impenetrable, unwaveringly stern voice lilted its way to his ears, and if he could have gone any more frozen than he already was, he would have.

'Yes, Ma'am. At the rate at which he is progressing, it should be no more than a week's time before he is gnashing his teeth at us once again.'

The proclamation of his returning strength was punctuated with a distinct hint of vitriol.

'Very well, Doctor Keller. Please, do not hesitate to summon me if anything changes, for better or worse.'

'Yes, Ma'am.'

How very infuriating. How _insulting._ So he hadn't managed to destroy his enemy, after all. And what was worse, he was apparently being mended and babied by the very hand that tried to cut him down. The fury and rage at the thought of being treated in such a childish and disrespectful manner coursed through him. He wanted to scream.

'Doctor, look! His blood pressure is rising, and quickly!'

The good Doctor replied in a rather bland tone. 'Prepare a sedative, then. He must be conscious, but still immobile.'

_No, I don't want a bloody sedative, you heathen butchers! Release me, kill me! To have your unclean hands upon me is an affront to the Lord!_

No matter how much he struggled against them in his mind, the needle in his vein had a different agenda. Slowly, the cooling relief of whatever liquid that was being pumped into him reached his mind, and though the Paladin tried in earnest to fight it, the calming embrace of sleep took him into its arms, and again there was nothing but blackness.

* * *

><p>He felt the eyes on him.<p>

He heard no sound other than the breathing of whoever surrounded him.

The vague recollections of being tended to by impure hands were sliding back into his mind like melting ice, and puddles of clarity formed here and there. He remembered hearing Babylon's voice, and he nearly shuddered at it. The solidity of her presence nearly ran him through like a blade. He knew that she was here as well, her filthy Protestant aura was impossible to ignore.

His eyelids rose slowly, still feeling as heavy as hundred kilo weights. His brows furrowed as blurs of shapes and colors began to take form in front of him. He strained to see clearly what, or who it was that stood before him. His stomach churned, as well. He couldn't see the Damned Creature, but he could feel that unholy Red Devil's sickening omnipotence all around him.

Once his eyes had a chance to focus at least somewhat on the silhouettes in front of him, dull olive irises quickly flashed with fire, and turned a powerful, burning celadon.

'Good morning, Paladin Anderson.'

It was none other than Integra Hellsing.

'Spare me yer pleasantries, Ah kin' see straight through ye.'

Integra's aging manservant and second hand assassin stood obediently next to her, lips curled up in an almost teasing Cheshire grin. They were _amused_, and it sickened and angered Anderson to absolutely no end.

'Yeh Damnable creatures are truly Godless.' He croaked. 'Only a tribe a' Demon-Worshippin' filth'd deny a Man of God a Martyr's death.'

'You'd do well to not waste what little strength you have on insulting our Organization, Paladin. We scraped your carcass together for a purpose, and that purpose is not meaningless torment.'

Integra flashed him a purposeful glare.

'We honestly did not expect for you to recover. Had you died, we would have gladly shipped your remains back to Rome for the Vatican to piss on...'

She smirked as Anderson's face turned a shade of pale vermillion.

'…Not that they haven't already done that to your Priesthood.'

There wasn't a thing he could say to that. Maxwell had stripped him of his title. He could not, however, strip him of his faith. Anderson was a Man of God, clerical collar or not.

'In any case, Paladin, we at Hellsing still recognize your worth as a Purifier. This is why we have brought you here.'

Anderson arched a brow. Even in his weakened state, his mind was still sharp and the implications of Integra's statement did not escape him. It was, in essence, a job offer. The prospect of allying with Hellsing nearly made bile rise in his gullet. It infuriated him. Integra was right though, as much as it disgusted him to admit it. He could not waste what little strength he had on lashing out against his captors.

'Yer' all even greater fools than I thought, to even consider th' prospect'a me aligning with th' likes o'yeh.' He growled the threat in a menacing tone.

Integra humphed, and chewed the end of the unlit cigarillo she held between her teeth. He would be quite the difficult horse to break.

'Sir, if I might,' The manservant began. 'Perhaps we should leave to let Mr. Anderson consider the fact that he lives not because of the will of his God, but because of _us_.'

'A very astute observation, Walter.' She smiled at the aging man.

Anderson _howled._

'Och, 'ow _DARE_ ye e'en _SPEAK_ 'is Holy Name in m'pres'nce, le'aloon think yer deserven'a _ANY_ thanks'er gratitude fer tek'in me aweh from th'Right handa th'Lord?' He spat, his brogue becoming thicker and more incomprehensible as he raged on.

After his outburst, he coughed. A large, dark clot of blood came from his mouth and landed on the pristine white cotton blanket that covered him. His chest burned deeply and his mouth tasted of copper and sick.

'Calm yourself, Paladin' Integra began, coolly. 'We don't expect you to make a decision overnight. You're still weak, and we can't have you reversing all the work we've already put into you.'

She bit down on the end of the cigarillo once more.

'You need time to right your mind.'

The gravity of the situation was yet another crushing blow for Alexander Anderson, and he turned his gaze away from the two Protestant scum. What could he do? He was far too weak to escape and return to Rome. He couldn't fight them, he had no Blessed Blades and no Holy Tome, but damned if he'd lie here like a wounded dog, watching as this pack of wolves circled him. No, he'd rather take his own life and never enter into the Kingdom of Heaven than align with these unholy beasts and be damned to burn in Hell.

He didn't have steel or bullets, but he did have one thing.

He had the Holy fire of God inside him.

Anderson grinned at the prospect. Oh, these smug monstrosities had no earthly idea. With a snap of his fingers, he could set himself ablaze in the name of God, and take the whole damned compound along with him. He was no longer chained back by Maxwell, he acted of his own accord. These charlatans would never have the pleasure of having the Lord on their side, in _any_ form.

'I need time fer no such thing, Babylon.'

Walter grimaced at the name the Paladin used for his dear Sir Integra. Such absolute disrespect for a woman he knew almost nothing about.

Anderson lifted his hand and glared daggers at the both of them. Index finger and thumb pressed together in a willful display of defiance, he grinned.

'I'll take my leave o' this filthy place, an' this existence, in the name of our Dear Lord, Jesus Christ, Amen.'

The Paladin braced himself for his inevitable incineration, but when the snap came, the flames did not. The lapping heat he had expected was nowhere to be found, and Integra and Walter stood before him, looking rather unimpressed. Bored, almost. Alexander panicked and tried it again, but to no avail. He felt no surge of power course through him. He felt no divine light, he felt no presence of the Almighty in his heart. His face paled and he snarled viciously at his captors.

'Wha'ave ye done ta me, demon wench?'

Integra chuckled to herself quietly.

'We anticipated such a reaction from you, Anderson.' Her eyes darted over to Walter momentarily. He must have noticed her, as he deftly produced a zippo from one of his pockets, and flicked the flint. Almost mockingly, a flame burst to life on the wick, and Integra inhaled deeply on her cigarillo. It seemed to be a direct insult to his suppressed abilities. 'And because of your nature, we took preventative measures.'

She exhaled.

'Your wrists.'

With fury rising in his stomach, he reluctantly unbuttoned the cuffs of the pyjamas they had apparently dressed him in. He slid the sleeves up on his forearms, and stared at his wrists, stunned and horrified.

They had _marked him._

Two symbols, both identical, bore their presence on each wrist. They were quite similar to the seals that the demon Alucard wore on his gloves, only that in the place of a Pentagram, there were Crucifixes. Alexander shook, almost uncontrollably. He was enraged. He was in mourning. These demons… he had allowed them to mark him in such an unholy way. He was one of their abominations, he was sure of it. The color drained from his face and his head hung.

'This… this cannae be true. I am an abomination unto the Lord.'

'Not quite.' Integra sucked in another mouthful of smoke. 'You haven't been turned, and _neither_ of the Nosferatu in my menagerie have an interest in doing such a thing to you, so I wouldn't concern yourself about that.'

She exhaled gently, and stepped closer towards the bed.

'Those seals on your wrists are there to prevent you from making any attempt at harming any of my men, Vampire or not, while you are with us.' She looked at him intently. 'And you will be with us for _quite_ some time. Your regenerative qualities seem to have been greatly diminished.'

Integra spoke to Alexander in a tone that could only be construed as her attempt at being comforting. Despite her contempt for the man, she was aware of what an asset he would be to her mission, and she was not immune to human emotion. The Paladin was mourning the loss of what he held most dear, and she could understand that, on some level.

'Take some solace in knowing that the marks aren't permanent,' She said. 'I'll let you know more about your situation tomorrow, but for now, I urge you to rest. Try to quell your rage for now.'

Bright viridian met ice as they locked gazes. What a foolish request, this woman had made unto him.

_A Lion does not obediently lay on its back and present its belly when leashed with a rope,_ he thought.

'I'll not be one o' yer pets, Harlot.'

With that statement, a low, baritone snigger seemed to permeate the air and fill the room with its thickness. The hairs on Anderson's body stood at an absolute attention, and his very core tingled. He knew that sound all too well, and it disgusted him every time it came to his ears. It was like nails on a chalkboard to the Nth power.

'Judas,' the voice echoed. 'You should see that being a pet isn't so bad.'

Anderson wanted to retaliate. In any other situation, he would have the room covered in a Holy Barrier, and the damned monster would have been decapitated twice over by now. The walls would be soaked in blood, both righteous and unclean. Unfortunately, all he had the strength to do now, was to sit and listen.

With an almost waifish air, Alucard phased through the right wall of the infirmary recovery room, and stood nearly a foot away from the side of the fallen Paladin's bed. Anderson refused to turn his head and look at the menacing creature. It was embarrassing enough being nannied by his enemies, he simply didn't have the energy to waste on a zealous back-and-forth with the Demon. Not yet, at least.

'What a sight, indeed. Powerful, Holy, Righteous Father Alexander Anderson. Reduced to nothing more than a simpering, weak Catholic dog. I'd venture a bet that you don't even feel the presence of your God anymore, do you?'

'Alucard, I'm warning you.' Integra spat, sternly.

The Vampire crouched down to get a better look at Anderson. His piercing Alizarin stare bore a hole directly into the Paladin's heart, right through the one that had just begun to heal. He felt a deep ache in his chest, and gripped at his shirt.

Alucard chuckled almost gleefully, then stood, pacing himself as he made his way over to his Master.

'You really think that this Vatican mongrel is worth even the slightest amount of your attention, Master?'

'It's of no importance to you, Alucard. Mind yourself.'

He smirked.

'As you wish.' The agreement came in a painfully condescending tone.

Alucard crossed his long, lithe arms and smiled wickedly at the suffering Holy Man. 'By the by, Judas. Those seals suit you unbelievably well.' And with that, he phased through the floor.

Anderson grunted to himself and pushed the sleeves back down over his marks. He hid his hands under the blanket in shame.

'Leave me.' He managed, through gritted teeth. 'I nee'tae be alone.'

'Very well,' Integra agreed. She cast her icy stare over him once more, and he felt it in every fibre of his being. There was something about this woman that made him so incredibly uneasy. 'Should you need anything at all, don't hesitate to use the call button on the side of your bed.'

As the flaxen-haired Knight turned to leave, her manservant followed. She was halfway through the threshold of the sliding glass door as she turned around one last time, almost as though she had forgotten a very important detail of a speech.

'And Alexander,' she said with only the hint of a smile upon her lips, 'Don't go trying to set yourself on fire again.'


	2. II

Time ticked by at a maddeningly turtle-like pace. Anderson lay in his hospital bed, bundled in bandages, hooked to wires, and looking for all the world like a failed science experiment. In a way, he was of course, but for now he was just a miserable man attempting to find some peace of mind, and that was proving to be a very difficult thing to acquire in the Hellsing compound.

It wasn't just the fact that he was in an inconceivable amount of pain. Mainly, the reason for his unrest was the marks on his wrists. There were few words in the English language, or any other for that matter, that could describe his abhorrence for the unholy symbols fixed onto his flesh. More so than the seals, he despised the disrespectful heathens that somehow saw fit to put them on him in the first place. He felt such shame. What bothered him even more profoundly was that in the deepest pit of his soul, he did not feel the Lord's condemnatory gaze upon him. He could no longer feel that watchful eye that had, in the past, given strength to him.

'O Lord,' he began, head cradled in his hands. His tone was sorrowful. 'Be gracious unto me: heal my soul; for I have sinned against thee.'

The tormented Paladin kept still for a moment, eyes moving back and forth, as though he were looking for a physical sign.

Nothing.

He felt nothing.

A deep, resounding whoosh of a sigh escaped his lips, and he reclined back onto the pillows, careful to mind his wounds.

Brows furrowed in disappointment, he turned his arms so that the heathen symbols faced him.

_How disgusting I am. Vile and unclean._

He grit his teeth hard, nearly cracking the enamel of his molars. He ground them mercilessly, ignoring the vein that had popped in his temple. That swelling rage was building up inside him again, and he had no outlet for it, and it was driving him to the brink of madness. Here, in a houseful of demons and harlots existing in unholy mockery of the Lord, he had no outlet. It was comical, but only for a moment.

Wrath and grief mixed together dangerously in his belly, a tidal wave of emotion and regret sloshing around inside him. He wanted to vomit badly, in hopes of expelling the nasty sensation, but since he'd been on an IV drip of nutrients for well over two weeks now, there was nothing in his gut to oust. This infuriated him even more so, and in an angry fit, he took hold of the IV stand, and launched it across the room with great strength, howling in disdain as he did so. The medical equipment went haywire with beeps and blips and all sorts of squelching noises, and through the racket, a distinctly feminine scream was heard as the steel IV stand went crashing through the glass observation window.

Anderson perked up immediately. The scream itself wasn't all that familiar, but there was a dark, looming presence that he sensed. He could nearly smell it.

'Show yerself, yeh demon. I can tell yer about, somewhere.'

There was no movement for a moment or two, and still the Paladin sat upright and alert in his bed, doing his damnedest to pay no mind to the obnoxious sounds of the medical equipment. His eyes focused on the curtain that covered the sliding glass door, the entrance to his room. Whatever the dark presence was, be it the Dracula or his charge, it was behind the fabric.

'Don'ye have any merit, unholy beast? Ye vile thing.'

That did the trick. From behind the rustling curtain emerged a rather startled and unsettled looking Seras Victoria, holding a tray that looked as though it was made of silver. Must have been nickel though, otherwise she'd not be able to hold it.

'H-Hello, Father.' She warbled.

Anderson didn't reply. He growled and glared at her.

'Um. Um, Master and Sir Integra informed me that you'll be with us for… well, for a while I suppose.' She dared not approach him while he had that wild look in his eyes.

'I wanted to be… hospitable? I brought Brodies.'

Anderson's glare softened considerably at the word, although he did not relent in making the Draculina's skin crawl.

He could practically hear her little gloved hands shaking as she held the tray close to her. There was a pot of what he could only assume was hot water. There was also a mug. Whatever the jezebel had put in the mug smelled absolutely _heavenly, _and it took a great amount of self-control not to thank her.

'Um.' She looked to the left, and to the right. Seras wanted anything but to look into the man's eyes. She knew what her master had done to him, and she knew further what Integra had done. She had a very difficult time holding his anger against him.

'Sooo… I'll just… set it down right over here, alright?'

Seras awkwardly shuffled to the left of the bed, not turning her back to him for even a second as she moved. She remembered the sting of the Blessed Blade in her neck quite vividly, and though the Paladin had been subdued, she took no chances. Seras wasn't keen on being skewered more than once.

Gingerly, she set the tea tray down on a gurney, patting the bowl of sugar and decanter of milk she'd brought along with it.

'I don't know… if you like milk or sugar in your tea, so I made it straight.' Still, she didn't look at him. 'There's both here, so you can fix it how you like.'

Anderson was momentarily stunned by Seras' childlike innocence and willingness to be civil. It confused him, to say the least. Still, he was unwilling to let his guard down at all, as he remembered what she was.

_This is all just a ruse_ He told himself.

_I should say it isn't, _Seras retorted, mentally._ If I were to lay a finger on you, not that I WOULD, mind you, I'd be in a lot of trouble._

Anderson's eyes went wide and his brows furrowed further.

'If yer wise at all, ye'll do well to stay out of my head, Draculina.'

Seras blinked. She hadn't realized she'd just used her telepathy on the poor Paladin.

'Ohmygod, I'm so sorry… I-'

'Do _not_ use the Lord's name in vain in my presence, Nightchilde. Dunnae even _speak _it a'all.'

The fire rose in his words and she felt it scathing her. She shriveled back from his bedside and swallowed thickly, now even more nervous than she had been when the man had turned his IV post into a javelin.

Seras felt momentarily offended. Even though she _was_ a demon of the night or whatever the ex-priest fancied calling her, she was _still_ a Protestant, and she _still_ believed in God, despite her circumstances. She was about to let loose a rebuttal, but decided against it. There were plenty of other long, metal things in this room that Anderson could get his hands on, and she did not want to be turned into an undead kebab. She lowered her eyes, and cleared her throat.

'S-sorry.'

'I sincerely doubt ye'are.'

She huffed through her nose.

Seconds later, two men came jogging into the room, looking a little more than winded. The younger-looking one of the two stared agape at the glass, trying to figure out how exactly the IV post got lodged into it. He looked over to Anderson, who paid no attention, and then to Seras, who offered a sheepish wave and a smile.

'What… what happened?' the Junior Doctor asked.

'Oh, I brought him some tea.' She replied loftily.

'Did you.' Was his dry response.

Anderson refused to say anything one way or another. His attention was now fixed entirely on the luscious and familiar scent of strong black tea, almost calling out to him. He paid no mind to the throbbing ache in his chest or the two Doctors, scrambling to reset the monitoring equipment. He wanted something warm and real in his belly. After being fed through a tube for weeks on end, this _would_ be a welcome change. He thought briefly about it being tainted or poisoned. It was a possibility. However, death would be better than servitude, and he was indifferent to death.

The Paladin reached for the tea.

Seras watched him, and was rather surprised as she observed him spoon helping after helping of sugar into the mug, along with a good dose of milk. Based on his abrasive and stern personality, she highly figured that he would have taken it without any embellishments. It might as well have been nothing but the milk and sugar, the way he prepared it. More like a child's drink.

The way he sucked the drink down, one might have thought it was liquid gold. Seras was determined to make good with the Paladin, and took some comfort in knowing he at least appreciated the gesture of the tea, even if he'd never admit it to her directly.

The Doctors eventually left after slipping a fresh IV needle into Anderson's arm, and then gave him a stern warning regarding his thrashing about. It fell on deaf ears, of course. First of all because he didn't give a shit one way or another about their concern for him, and second of all because the tea was the first thing he'd felt enter his system in weeks that wasn't morphine.

Minutes ticked by and eventually he'd finished the pot.

He slammed the mug back down onto the tea tray, and sighed with just the slightest hint of contentment. It felt _so_ good to not have an empty stomach, even if it was just tea.

Seras was still standing there, rubbing her arm nervously. She felt compelled to say something to the Paladin, even though there was an almost one hundred percent chance that he'd just throw it back at her in the form of some kind of condemning scripture.

'So, um.' She began. 'How… are you feeling?' Seras could almost _hear_ Anderson's eyes rolling at the question.

'An' what interest would a _Godless_ heathen Jezebel have with how _I _am feelin'?'

_This _was probably why Alucard enjoyed tormenting the man so very much. He was such a righteous _ass._

'You know, Master warned me about trying to make nice with you.'

'Y'shouldae heeded his word.'

And with that one last little retort, Seras had reached her boiling point. Sky blue eyes turned to Vermillion in a snap, and she scowled at the man.

'Just because I'm a Vampire doesn't mean I don't have a heart, you know. I bleed the same way you do. I have the same objective as you do.'

Anderson gave a haughty laugh and crossed his arms over his chest, delivering a curious stare to the fledgling. Seras wrinkled her nose at him.

'If you think God holds you in such high regard, then why didn't just he let you die and whisk you up to heaven before Sir Integra got to you?'

She watched Anderson's face fall from amusement to irritation.

_Okay, that hit him in a sore spot, sh_e mused.

'Maybe he thinks you're just as much of a heretic as you think I am.' The young Draculina gave him a triumphant glare as she crossed her arms over her chest, confident that she'd driven her point home. She waited for his response. She could see that he was steaming on the inside, his aura resonated hotly with his temper.

Anderson was searching frantically within his mind for an appropriate bit of Psalm or Scripture to put the demoness in her place. How _dare_ she taunt him and provoke him in that manner. He was seething, his hackles were raised and he was poised to deliver an incredibly scathing oration just as soon as he could clear his mind enough to string the words together. He swallowed hard, feeling the vein in his forehead begin to throb.

Seras didn't give him enough time to form his thoughts, instead she dropped her head her her hand, and sighed heavily.

She couldn't really hold any scorn towards the man. This was how he was brought up to behave, and this was what he was brainwashed to believe. The icing on the proverbial cake was all of the utter _shit_ he had been made to endure over the past weeks. She could wholeheartedly comprehend what he was struggling with. In a way, she knew his fate even before Sir Integra had a chance to explain the seals, her intentions, or any of what the future might bring. The same foreboding feeling had hung heavy over her when Alucard had blasted through her chest, and given her the very unfair ultimatum of either dying or becoming his progeny.

'I know you have no desire to be here, Father. For that, I'm truly sorry.'

He shuddered inwardly at hearing the creature refer to him that way, and couldn't help but puzzle over the Draculina's words. He'd known creatures of her sort to be tricky and then some, but this was just too sincere. He'd heard far too many confessions in his time, and he could separate those who really _were_ sorry from those who just didn't give a shit. It unsettled him in a way he couldn't quite understand, to know that this undead, spawn of hell seemed to have something like a conscience.

There was a silence between them, and it seemed to stretch on for an uncomfortable amount of time, until Seras snapped to attention.

'Oh! That's right, I nearly forgot –'

The Vampiress undid the button of her right shirt pocket and produced what were apparently a pair of silver, round-rimmed spectacles. She made sure not to grip the frame, but to hold them by the ends.

'Walter fixed these for you.'

Seras made her way over to the bed, and handed them over. Anderson took them from her gingerly, still studying her with a suspicious eye. He unfolded the arms and brought them to his face, giving his eyes a moment to adjust. He blinked twice. The quality was surprising.

'Thank ye.' The gesture of gratitude had slipped out accidentally.

'It's not a problem, I'll let Walter know you said thanks.' She managed a smile.

Again, there was a silence. Anderson looked over to Seras, only to catch her staring at him. What an absolutely _strange_ creature. The more he studied her face, the more human she seemed. It was _very_ interesting. In particular, he couldn't help but take note of her eyes.

They were a perfectly normal, everyday shade of blue. In fact, nearly everything about the Draculina was average, save for the one fang peeking out from behind her lip, and her rather voluptuous breasts, which Anderson did his damnedest to ignore. If not for the telltale fang, she was about as normal as the Sisters he associated with at the Vatican, and he doubted very much if any normal human being would be able to detect the demon inside her.

It was disconcerting.

Her Master looked every bit the part of a proper Vampire, even when not below his level four restriction. Anderson supposed that pride played into that matter, somewhat. Alucard wasn't vain per se, but he certainly did get some enjoyment out of using his looks to his advantage. He was very intimidating, and he radiated that fact to whoever came in contact with him.

Even the FREAKs that Anderson had been battling had some very telltale physical signs of being corrupted in some way or another. He tried working it through his mind over and over again, wringing his thoughts out like a laundry mangle. It just didn't make sense to him. The Draculina made no sense at all.

'Is there… anything else you need, Father?' She asked, sheepishly. She hoped not to provoke him.

He didn't answer for a few seconds, he was determined not to let give up his resolve. No matter _how_ human she appeared, she was still an abhorrence as far as he was concerned. Anderson slunk down under the covers a bit more, and crossed his arms over his chest. Before he had a chance to retort with an insult, a loud, gurgling rumble made itself audible throughout the entire room.

His stomach.

'Oh, you're hungry. Don't worry, I'll have the kitchen whip something up for you in a flash.' Again, Seras smiled, trying to make the Paladin feel at ease; As much as he possibly could in a houseful of Hellions, anyway.

Anderson didn't respond. He was _beyond_ embarrassed.

* * *

><p>After Seras had left the infirmary, she made her way through the compound, thinking of the Paladin the entire time. There were so many things that bothered her about his presence at Hellsing Manor, and most of them were because of his reaction to her, Integra, Walter, and the entire battalion. She could easily understand his distaste for Alucard, the Vampire was intolerable at times, even for her.<p>

However, it hurt her deeply that the Paladin had such a revulsion towards her. She'd done nothing to directly harm him, although she knew what Hellsing as a whole had done. The Draculina understood to some degree the reasoning behind Anderson's reaction, but it didn't make it any less difficult to deal with. She had been under the care of clergy her entire life, and to have a member treat her with such disdain – Protestant or Catholic, it didn't matter – upset her.

_Police girl, why do you insist on waiting on that Vatican scum?_

Seras narrowed her eyes. _Master, he's wounded. He hasn't eaten anything in two weeks._

_Neither have you,_ Alucard noted jovially._ You should drink from him when he's asleep. Wouldn't that be something, Seras? Priest turned Progeny. He's a virgin, you know._

The Draculina felt a sudden flush of heat come to her cheeks. _Master! How… do you even know that?_

_I can smell him._

Seras shuddered. _I'm not turning anyone, especially not Father Anderson. _

_Have it your way, Police girl. You are truly unusual._

She huffed to herself as she rounded the corner for the kitchen. That was unfair. Seras had an unrelenting, burning desire to please her Master. She would willingly plow through an entire field of ghouls, no questions asked. She would shoot down any FREAK without hesitation. But one thing she could not abide was the proposal of drinking fresh human blood, let alone turning someone. She knew that Alucard most likely meant it as a tease, but still… the thought hung heavy in her head, and it troubled her.


	3. III

In the week following Anderson's arrival at the Hellsing compound, he progressed substantially. Despite his improvement, his regenerative qualities were still considerably stunted, and he still hadn't been able to walk very far on his own. He could get to the bathroom and shower on his own, but any more strain than that, and he'd collapse. It happened more than once, already. The Paladin had attempted to escape the compound, and was found struggling on the floor, a few feet outside of his recovery room. He'd cursed the nurses with every fibre of his being when they brought him back to the infirmary.

Seras had more or less kept completely clear of him, except when accompanying Integra for a visit or two. Alucard was a completely different situation altogether, though. The No-Life King found great enjoyment in taunting the ex-Priest, mocking him and trying to get a rise out of him at any chance he could find. He didn't exactly have to try very hard; the vampire's presence alone was enough to send Anderson into a homicidal rage, and this had on more than one occasion been the cause of the setbacks in the Paladin's recuperation.

Sunday proved to be a bit different.

Anderson spent the better half of the morning in his bed, praying from a Bible. The one request Integra had indulged him in was to acquire a copy of the Douay-Rheims Bible, and he clung to it as if it were his last attachment to the Catholic Church.

'_For though I should walk in the midst of the shadow of death, I will fear no evils, for thou art with me. Thy rod and thy staff, they have comforted me.'_

He shut his eyes tightly, gripping the edges of the Holy Book.

'_Thou hast prepared a table before me against them that afflict me. Thou hast anointed my head with oil; and my chalice which inebriateth me, how goodly is it…'_

Integra had commanded that Anderson be brought up to her office. It would be just the Paladin, the two Vampires, and their master.

'_And thy mercy will follow me all the days of my life. And that I may dwell in the house of the Lord unto length of days. Amen.'_

He barely had the time to finish his prayer before the nurses brought in the wheelchair.

Briefly, he considered struggling against them. He had absolutely no desire to be brought under the judgment of this Hellish circus, Integra being the ringmaster of it all. If he had any strength left in him, he would have cleaved them all lengthwise, but as it was, the Paladin could barely lift himself up without assistance. Begrudgingly, he allowed them to help him up and into the chair, and down the corridors to his fate.

The woman's office was _cold._

That was the only real way he could describe it. Anderson felt incredibly uncomfortable as the nurses wheeled him through the exceedingly tall French doors. They positioned him in front of the large oaken desk, almost as if he were prey being offered up to a predator. Despite the company he now held, the silence in the room was deafening and he longed for someone to say _something._ Integra merely sat behind the desk, a Nosferatu at either side, glasses glinting in a menacing fashion.

'What have ye brought me here for, wench?'

Alucard couldn't help but snicker.

'Patience, Anderson. I'll explain it soon enough.' She reclined in her chair, looking at the blonde man with what almost appeared to be concern. 'First, there are some things… some information you need to be aware of.'

Integra plucked a cigarillo from the box on the desk, deftly clipped the end of it, and lit it. Patiently, she took a draw, and exhaled. Her expression spoke volumes, but she instead tried to remain composed.

'When you decided to take my servant on in battle, you used the Nail of Helena on yourself, didn't you, Father.'

Anderson recoiled. Hearing any Protestant filth refer to him in that way was nauseating.

'Aye, I did.'

'Might I ask, then, how you came into possession of such a relic? I can't imagine that you just plucked it from an archive, and then went charging into battle, am I correct?'

Vivid emerald eyes flashed defiantly at Integra, and Icy blue retaliated.

'You don't have to hide any information, Alexander. If you recall, Iscariot has been decimated completely, and I assure you that Hellsing has no intention to plunder the Vatican for religious trinkets.'

The Paladin felt his heart jump into his throat. _That's right… Iscariot is… is gone._

'Section III. Matthew. They're a bit like a museum. They needed approval from the Pope in order t'give me the Nail.'

Integra took another long drag of her cigarillo.

'Surely, they understood what using that Nail meant, correct?'

Anderson didn't reply.

'Tell me, Paladin.' Her tone darkened. 'It was suicide, wasn't it? They knew you wouldn't survive its use, and still, they allowed you to use it.'

The fire in his belly had been stoked, and the ex-Priest nearly launched himself out of his chair at her. If he could have made it more than a few steps, he would have strangled her, Monsters be damned. This was an outright insult to the Decisions of the Church. How _dare_ she insinuate such things?

'I am an _instrument _of God's divine wrath and judgment, yeh stinking Protestant Filth,' He growled at her defensively. 'I am not some expendable soldier.'

Integra smirked. She was surprised at how quickly he caught on.

She was silent for a few moments, thinking about how to approach the situation. Eventually, she opened one of the drawers of the desk, and produced a file. It was thick, sitting at nearly an inch. She set her hand on top of it in an almost protective manner.

'This is you, in this file.' Her tone was deadly serious. 'Everything that you are - Everything that you _think_ you are is in here, and you need to be made aware of it.'

Anderson had no earthly idea what it was that she was talking about. He _knew_ who and what he was; a divine instrument of God, created by man. He was the Lord's right hand on Earth, and his mission was to purify and extinguish all that would challenge or tarnish the name of the Almighty. It had been ingrained in his head for years, for as far back as he could recall, and nothing would change that, especially not a little file.

'Alexander Anderson. Born 26 August 1962, Elderslie, County Renfrewshire, Scotland.'

She looked up at him briefly, and then back down at the file.

'Mother, Rebecca Anderson, née Shaw. Death, 1 September 1962. Cause; childbirth. Father, Malcolm Anderson. Death, 3 September 1962. Cause; suicide.'

The Paladin's eyes widened and he felt his fists shaking. How the _hell_ had she found that information? After years and years of searching, he had never been able to uncover anything that personal, and now somehow, Integra Hellsing held his entire past in her hands. There was nothing more he could do but sit there in the wheelchair and listen to her prattle on, almost as though she were narrating to a classroom of bored school children. He felt sick to his stomach.

'...Enlisted in the 51st Infantry Brigade, Highland Division in November 1979.' Integra quirked an eyebrow and looked up at the ex-Priest in a somewhat bemused manner. 'Section-8 Medical Discharge received on 11 December, 1980. Reason; Mental instability.'

Anderson's emerald eyes immediately flashed towards Alucard, and the Vampire reciprocated the knowing expression as a wicked smile spread across his lips.

'Application for Seminary through the Diocese of Paisley submitted on 14 April, 1981. Three year tenure at the Venerable English College, Via di Monserrato, Roma, Italy... Holy Orders received on 23 March, 1894. Impressive, Anderson. Such a short tenure for such a young man.'

'Is that all yeh've got on me? Not much of it is new information, Hellsing.'

'I won't bother going through the pages and pages of detail in regards to your becoming a regenerator, you're obviously well aware of that. However, there is one last thing you should be made aware of.'

'There isn't a thing I'm not aware of, Babylon.'

'Isn't there?' Integra smirked at him only slightly, and then leafed through nearly fifty pages of information before she stopped and bookmarked the sheet with a white-gloved hand.

'Paladin Alexander Anderson, Dismissed from the Clerical State under the orders of Bishop Enrico Maxwell, 12 May, 1998.' The woman looked up at Anderson, gauging his reaction to the information. He maintained his stony exterior, though his bright viridian eyes flashed fire and contempt. Now was a good a time as any to hit him with the final blow.

'…_Death_ Verified by the Holy Roman Catholic Church, 18 July, 1998.'

_What! Death…? The Diocese thinks I'm dead? That's impossible._

'A lie, that's all that is, yeh wicked creature.' He grit his teeth tightly at her, fingernails digging into the thick leather armrests of the chair. 'Blasphemy – It's all that'll ever leave yer damned lips.'

'If you don't believe me, have a look for yourself.'

She lifted herself from her chair with delicate and self-assured grace, her eyes never leaving the Paladin's face. They stared at one another long and hard, one expression of victory and another of sickening defeat and realization. Gently, she extended a hand, offering Anderson the paper. He plucked it from her quickly and roughly, not bothering to offer thanks.

As his eyes scanned the sheet, they became wider, and his brow furrowed upwards, a forlorn expression of disbelief and grief. He must have read the one paragraph statement five times over before it finally hit him. Integra _hadn't_ lied. It was true, right in front of his face in bold black and white. The Papal Seal with its interlocking gold and silver keys, Triple crown and Pallium solidified it. At the bottom of the sheet, in large block Latin, read _'Requiescat in Pace'_. Reading that was like reading the punch line to a bad joke.

The Paladin sat there in disbelief, eyes cast downward. He felt as though his soul had been taken from him. His plan _had_ been to escape the Hellsing compound when he was well enough, and he would have gone back to Rome to hopefully have his Priesthood reinstated. Now, there were no plans left. There was no hope, no light inside him, just absolute _nothingness._ He couldn't even form a sentence as he felt all courage and faith drain from his body.

'Understandably, you must be upset.' He could hear Alucard snickering under his breath as Integra spoke. 'We did quite a bit of digging to get our hands on this. Our intent is not to humiliate you.'

'It's _my_ intent…'Alucard chided.

Integra shot him a deadly glare and he just grinned at her. Seras gave her master a disapproving look.

'We know what you do, Alexander. The two creatures behind me are more highly aware of it than any of the men in my regiment.'

Still, Anderson said nothing.

'What we are offering you is a chance to continue pursuing God's work. We are offering you the option to use the strengths you have alongside an organization that will only bolster your talents.'

It disgusted him. The information was simply too much for him to handle. Being abandoned by his Church and his Faith, the organization he had so faithfully served without question for fourteen years… and now his most bitter enemies were quite obviously attempting to take advantage of his fragile state. They were trying to corrupt him, and it was apparent especially in Alucard's demonic mannerisms. He could feel the vampire's aura surrounding him, and it made him ill.

The Paladin looked up at the platinum haired woman, staring her down defiantly. In his left hand, he clutched the declaration of his death.

'And what of these seals on my arms?' He questioned.

Integra smirked.

'The seals on your arms are something a bit like a tattoo. The 'ink' is pure vampiric blood – Seras', specifically. If you should choose to remain with the Hellsing Organization, they will become permanently affixed to your flesh once you are initiated, and you will learn to control your power, rather than letting it run amok without restriction like the Vatican did.'

Anderson's attention immediately snapped to the Police Girl, and she felt his gaze on her. He was staring at her in utter disbelief, and she turned away, more embarrassed than she'd ever been. She hadn't planned on letting the Paladin know of the hand she had in suppressing his powers and ensuring his survival, and she would have vastly preferred it if Integra hadn't said anything about it at all.

He did not look away from the Draculina.

'…And if I refuse yer offer?'

'Then the seals will be removed. We cannot guarantee the return of your power, however. And in addition to that, if we _ever_ find you interfering in our operations in _any_ way, you will be destroyed immediately. No questions asked.'

The grin on her lips broadened.

'Now that you have no attachment to the Church of Rome, there isn't much of a risk of starting a religious war if we kill you. I'd keep that fresh in your mind, Paladin.'

Still, he refused to look away from the young Vampiress. She glanced at him fleetingly, her deep Aqua eyes meeting his every few seconds. There was almost shyness in the way Seras looked at him.

'And this …creature. The Draculina. _Why_ was it necessary for you t'use her blood?'

'She offered to. If not for her contribution, you wouldn't be alive right now. The medical team had attempted normal blood transfusions, but your body reacted adversely to them. They believe it was because of your regenerative qualities. Surprisingly, all it took was the application of the seals, and you started healing up straight away.'

The Paladin furrowed his brows and his glasses slipped down his nose. He couldn't comprehend the idea of the Vampiress having any interest in saving him. Demons were not meant to have consciences. Despite her unsettlingly human appearance, he willed himself to remember that she was just another unclean creature. Even more disturbing was the fact that his body had apparently accepted the Draculina's blood. That sickened him more than anything.

'…Bastards.'

Seras swallowed thickly and turned her eyes away from him. She knew that it was directed at her, more than the others.

'There is no time limit for you to make your decision, Alexander.' Integra folded her hands behind her back, and Alucard made his way to her side once again. 'I'll have the file sent to your room, and I'll have someone come to bring you back to the infirmary. This is not a choice to take lightly, and if you truly do consider yourself to be a man of God, you'll pray on it. Remember what we are offering you.'

She gave him a decisive glare.

'Alucard, Seras, Come. Let us leave him for the afternoon.'

Without much emotion or sympathy, she breezed past the Paladin with the elder Vampire in tow. Alucard lingered for but a moment, just to give the blonde man a taunting grin. Seras, however, found it difficult to move herself out of place.

'S-Sir Integra?' She said, her voice scarcely louder than a squeak. 'I'll bring Father Anderson back to his room. It won't be any trouble.'

Integra hesitated and turned, looking the Police girl over.

'Very well. Come, Alucard.'

Seras didn't bother to look at her Master. She could feel his seething glare inside her own mind, and knew that she'd get a thorough verbal lashing later for extending such cordiality to the Paladin. She'd cross that bridge when she came to it though.

Alexander hardly had time to protest the young Draculina's offer before the French doors closed behind him. They were alone once again.

Anderson had opened his mouth, primed to deliver a dissent that would make the Devil himself blush, but Seras quickly cut him off. She gathered the file in her arms, and walked it over to the incapacitated ex-priest. Timidly, she offered it to him.

'I'll take you back to the infirmary. I'm—I'm sorry you have to make this choice.'

Anderson had halted his speech and taken the file, all the while following Seras with his eyes as she kept her own affixed to the ground, doing her best not to catch his gaze. She moved around to the back of the chair and took hold of the handles, then turned him, and made for the door.

Neither party said a word to one another as they made their way back to the infirmary.

All the while, Anderson glowered at the Vatican Declaration of Death. If not for that painfully finite document, he still would have maintained his unshakeable faith in the Church of Rome. Now, he wasn't quite sure. The evidence that had been presented to him was just too solid, and for the first time in nearly fifteen years, he found himself questioning his faith, and it scared him. There were few things in this world that could truly shake the Paladin, demonic or not… but not knowing whether or not God was still on his side terrified him in a way he couldn't measure.

He set the paper down on top of the file and turned his wrists. Those seals were staring back at him in such a taunting way. They contained so many mixed messages. Partly, they made him believe that there just might be some good left in Seras, even though he wouldn't admit it even if threatened with death. That was something he'd keep to himself. And then on the other hand, he was disgusted with himself. He felt branded against his will, like cattle destined for the slaughter. He tensed his fists, watching the tendons beneath the symbols flex. He felt as though his mind would overflow if he thought about it for any longer.

When Seras reached the infirmary and Alexander's recuperation room, she gently helped him out of the chair and back into his bed. He accepted her support with little resistance, and even managed to mutter a bit of a muted 'thank you.'

'Father?'

He didn't respond.

'Listen, I know you don't want to be here. I know you hate us.' Her voice was soft and gentle.

Anderson managed to force himself to look up at her.

'But… You know, we do the same thing. We… we both fight for the same country. And you and I, we aren't that different.'

The Paladin frowned at her, but she continued.

'I really didn't get much of a choice either.' Seras bowed her head, thinking back to that horrible night in Cheddar. Thinking about how that 'Priest' had groped her and used her as a shield… that cowardly bastard. 'Alucard shot me right through my heart.' She put her hand up to her breast, remembering the searing pain of the bullet. 'He told me I could come with him, or I could die.'

He couldn't explain or prevent it, but Alexander felt a knot form in his throat.

'As an eighteen year old girl, I wanted to live. I didn't know it would be like this.' She gave a dark laugh. 'I never even had a boyfriend. Would you believe that?'

The ex-priest rubbed the back of his neck, trying not to look at her directly.

'Anyway, despite that, I'm proud of what I do, and Sir Integra is really kind to me. Master is too, most of the time. If nothing else, they've made me stronger.'

She sighed.

'Not all monsters are _monsters._'

She lifted her head and looked him directly in the eye. Anderson desperately wanted to reply with something insulting, but for the life of him, he couldn't think of a thing to say. Seras looked at him for quite a long time, searching his face for something other than disgust. It was difficult for her to tell what was going through his mind. She considered telepathy for a moment, but then remembered her promise to stay out of his head.

'Well then… afternoon tea should be ready in a bit. I'm sure someone will bring it to you. I've… got to get to bed though, so I suppose I'll be going now.'

She turned, ready to make her way to the door.

Anderson had _tried_ to hold it back. He didn't _want_ to say it. He would never have even fathomed that he had the ability to say such a thing to a creature of the night, but it came tumbling from his lips anyway, and there wasn't a thing he could do to stop it. It was _more_ than just a reflex, it was as though something had forced him to say it.

'_Go with God, my child.'_

* * *

><p><em><strong>AN: Thanks for reading, really! I do appreciate the hits, I'm glad to know you all are interested in this little tale.**_

_I'd like to clarify some things:_

_- The bit about Alex's birth and the death of his parents came to me because of the whole 'orphan' thing. He runs an orphanage, so I thought logically, he'd have an attachment to such an occupation thanks to the circumstances of his own childhood. As far as his hometown and what not, I spent a ridiculous amount of time researching accents and Anderson actually has a pretty accurate rendition of a Paisley accent. It's Scottish, that's for sure._

_- The little exchange between him and Alucard after the mention of his military service is in regards to the scene in the Anime where he tries to commit suicide thanks to an ominously looming figure, which I assumed to be Alucard. _

_- The timing of his introduction to religion and his desire to be ordained a Priest was largely thanks to his experiences with the aforementioned creepy looming figure. His personality in the anime, manga and OVA are pretty much textbook overachiever, so I figured that three years in a seminary opposed to eight or nine seemed kind of appropriate. _

_- The dates listed for his defrocking and death, specifically the year, I decided to take from when the Manga was published. I figured it'd be a bit weird to be like, LOL IT'S HAPPENING **RIGHT NOW.** So yeah, that's the reasoning behind that._

_Thanks for reading!_


	4. IV

There was no denying it. After that little conversation she'd had with Anderson, sleep just wasn't an option. Seras tossed and turned in her coffin uncomfortably, all the while trying to decide whether the ex-Priest's little blessing was a step in the right direction or a step backwards. There were just too many decisions and too many moral dilemmas. If she could have it her way, Alexander would have remained a Man of God under the Vatican, but not the insane, homicidal, overzealous kind. Unfortunately, things hadn't exactly been going her way since Cheddar, and it didn't look like they would be changing any time soon.

_Seras, I know you're awake. I want you to come to my chamber._

The all too familiar, satiny voice of Alucard rung through her head, and she heaved a sigh.

_Great, just what I need - a lecture. Fantastic._

…_I can hear you, Police girl._

Seras grumbled to herself and pounded her fist against the red button. The hydraulic coffin lid lifted with a loud whirring, and slowly, agonizingly, she pulled herself away from the warm, dark comfort of her bed. She knew exactly what was coming to her, and as long as she was being honest with herself, it was to be expected. Alucard despised the Paladin, and to see his progeny treat his mortal enemy with such civility was more than a little aggravating. The No-Life King could definitely respect Anderson in battle, he was a fearsome foe. However, in his current state, he was just flat out pathetic, and as far as Alucard was concerned, he didn't deserve any pampering at all.

The cold cobblestone dungeon hall seemed to stretch on forever as Seras trudged her way to her Master's chamber. She was not looking forward to this.

When she reached the tall oaken doors, she pressed a hand to a large, iron door pull and then paused for a moment. She was too damn tired to put forth any sort of physical effort. Instead of yanking the door open, her hand dropped and she lazily phased through the solid surface.

Waiting on the other side of the doors was Alucard, sitting in that all too familiar throne-like chair, one leg crossed over the other, ruby eyes glinting at her. There was a time that her hair would have stood on end at the sight. Now, she just wanted to get this over with.

For a few moments, they said nothing to each other. They didn't have to, really. Alucard's expression said it all, and Seras' reciprocated it.

'Do you think that what you are doing is smart, Seras?'

'What do you mean, Master?' She feigned her innocence.

'You really think he deserves to be handled with kid gloves? After everything he's done?'

She thought on it. Did he deserve to be treated gently? No, she supposed that in all reality, he didn't. The young Vampiress couldn't help it, though. It was something about being able to relate to him. There was a certain kinship that she felt existed between them, despite their differing views, and despite the fact that the Paladin had, at one point, turned her neck into a pincushion for his swords. What was that saying; Turn the other cheek? That was it. This was one of those situations in where she'd have to turn the other cheek. She didn't expect her Master to understand or even care, but she supposed that was how it had to be.

'I don't know. I don't think you need to torment him like you do, that's for sure.'

Alucard chuckled. 'I don't _need_ to, but I _like_ to.'

'You're cruel.'

Alucard gave her a curious look, a smile only hinting on his lips.

'So… you agree with Master Integra, then? You want this Vatican Dog chained up to Hellsing?'

Seras had to refute that.

'I never said that, _Master._' She'd gone a bit catty. 'I don't think it's our decision. I mean, I guess it isn't, he has to make that choice on his own… I just don't like that it's happening like this.'

The Vampire folded his hands and intertwined his fingers, further reclining in his chair. 'You expected a different conclusion? Section XIII was like a bloated tumor clinging to the Vatican. It was only a matter of time until it collapsed in on itself. Everything our little Priest believed in and worked for would have gone tumbling down at one point or another, and there's nothing that would have changed that.'

Seras looked away and rubbed her arm. Alucard was right, as much as she hated to admit it. Section XIII was a disaster from the very moment it was conceived.

'That might be… But still, we really don't have to make this any harder on him than it already is.' She shrugged. 'He feels like we're taking his faith away from him or something, I don't know. I can feel it. He's scared, really scared.'

Alucard shot her a cold look. 'If a death certificate and a few magical seals was all it took to destroy his faith, then he really didn't have much faith to begin with.' His tone was sharp and hot. 'He is still alive, after all. You saw to that, Police Girl.'

The Draculina fell silent.

'Listen to me, Seras. I understand your regard for Anderson better than you know. Until he makes a decision, do not allow yourself to get attached. Keep your distance.'

Still, she didn't reply. Alucard furrowed his brow.

_Do you understand me, Seras?_

…_Yes, Master._

The Vampiress had thought about going back to her quarters, but she knew she'd be unable to sleep, especially after everything she'd gone through with Alucard and Anderson. There was simply too much on her mind. Instead of heading back to her chamber, she made her way up from the dungeon and began to wander the halls of the Hellsing mansion.

All of the heavy red velvet curtains had been drawn closed so that the dimly flickering wall sconces were the only source of light the hallways had. There was something vaguely Bram Stoker-esque about the whole scene, but Seras was too tired and irritated and confused to even give her setting a second thought. Arms folded shyly across her breast, she rubbed her shoulders as though she needed the friction and heat. Her eyes were cast downward and she could do nothing more than contemplate what had happened.

_Go with God…_

The blessing rang loud in her head, and she could hear the ex-Priest's thick Scottish brogue quite clearly. It was as if he had followed her. Occasionally she would look up from the carpet just to make sure he wasn't stalking around behind her.

Partially, she wanted to see him following her. At least, that would mean he was regaining his strength. He _had_ been doing considerably better than before they'd taken him in, but he was still extremely weak compared to when they would meet on the battlefield. That was to be expected, though. Having a giant iron nail driven through a human heart, regenerator or not, would take it out of anyone.

Still, past her concern for the Paladin's health, Seras held even more concern for his mental wellbeing. It seemed somewhat crazy, even to her, that she was feeling some level of unease about the choice that Sir Integra had given him. It was like some weird backwards version of what Alucard had put her through.

On the one hand, Anderson could take Integra's offer and keep the seals permanently affixed to his skin. It would allow him to keep his regenerative power, and he could go on killing things that go bump in the night for God's sake, or whoever's name he fought for. Hellsing's, in this case. On the other hand though, this was blasphemy in the highest regard according to him. He'd be stripped of everything he had grown to trust in, and in the most personal way possible. The Vatican may have taken his robes, but allying with his enemy would strip him of whatever faith in the Lord he had left. A Man of God being forced to fight alongside Demons would be unforgivable. In addition to that, his regenerative qualities might _never _return if the seals were to be removed, and Hellsing wouldn't think twice about decimating him if he tried to interfere in their future affairs. It was quite the conundrum, and the more Seras thought on it, the more her head ached.

A while back, she had noticed that the thick Persian rugs had at some point turned to cold marble, but she hadn't been paying attention to where it led. She kept walking, and soon found herself passing gurney after gurney, along with wheel chairs, IV stands, biohazard sharp disposals and other such medical paraphernalia. She rolled her eyes at herself.

_Of course I'd end up here… Seras, what are you thinking?_

That would be a question left unanswered for now. Seras kept on walking, her bare feet making no sound whatsoever as she padded down the icy halls. It was such a horrible place to be. The smell of blood was strong, and the closer she got to the Intensive Care ward, the more pungent the scent became. She hadn't fed in a day or two, and the prospect of a meal pushed all of her other thoughts aside. Vampiric instinct began to kick in, and her senses heightened.

_You should drink from him when he's asleep. Wouldn't that be something, Seras? Priest turned Progeny. He's a virgin, you know._

Seras stopped herself mid-stride and shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts. Where had that come from all of a sudden?

Alucard's taunting suggestion rattled through her brain like a bell tied to a rock. She shook her head again and silently told herself 'no', although her fangs ached desperately and every part of her body said 'yes'. It would be one thing to drink from a few medical blood bags, but she could _never_ drink from the Priest, or any living creature for that matter. It simply wasn't in her nature to do so, or at least that's what she told herself. Her vampiric tendencies would beg to differ.

Against her better judgment, the Draculina resumed her walk. She knew where she would end up, though she did not want to admit it to herself just yet. She knew Alucard would be upset, but that was something she would just have to deal with when the time came. For now, she wanted to see the Priest.

The trek took only minutes, and soon she found herself at the same place she'd been only hours earlier. She stood quietly behind Anderson's closed door, half-battling with herself on whether or not to go in.

_Master's going to be furious._

Indeed he would be. Seras paused, bringing her knuckle up to her mouth, biting it gently in thought. Even if Alucard did tell her explicitly not to give too much attention to the Paladin, Anderson's treatment was not in his jurisdiction.

_Sod it. I can take a few more verbal lashings._

Quietly and slowly, Seras phased through the door. She pressed her lips tightly together and furrowed her brows. If Anderson was awake, she was sure that he wouldn't be too pleased to see her using her foul black magic to enter his private quarters. As Seras reached the other side of the door, she was more than pleased to see that the Paladin was not only asleep, but he was out cold, and snoring.

In one hand, he held his bible, a certain section of it bookmarked by two fingers. In his other hand, he held a rosary, thumb and index finger pressed together over one of the beads. He'd been praying, and must have fallen asleep in the middle of it. Seras could understand that. It was probably best that he was getting some rest. He would need all of his strength – both physical and mental – to get through this ordeal.

After a few minutes of awkwardly standing at the side of his bed, Seras pulled one of the guest chairs over, doing so as quietly as she could. The last thing she wanted to do was wake him up and incur his fiery wrath – as if it wasn't already bad enough that she was a woman _and_ a vampiress, the last thing she wanted was to be guilty of disturbing his sleep as well. The Draculina cradled her cheek in her left hand, silently watching the ex-Priest as he slept. A myriad of thoughts found their way sifting through her head. While he was lying there, he just looked so…_ normal._

She managed a tiny smile.

Emboldened by Alexander's lack of accusing stare or harsh words, Seras reached out, deftly plucking the bible from his hands. She did her best to do it slowly and gently, so as not to wake him up. Slowly, _slowly_ she managed to work his fingers out from between the pages, replacing them with her own. She wanted to see what he had bookmarked.

She narrowed her eyes at the page, seeing a passage that had been sloppily circled in pencil. Seras glanced over to the bedside table – sure enough, there was a rather stubby and blunt pencil resting there. She went back to the book, and read the passage to herself.

'_Let no man, when he is tempted, say that he is tempted by God. For God is not a tempter of evils, and he tempteth no man.__But every man is tempted by his own concupiscence, being drawn away and allured.__Then when concupiscence hath conceived, it bringeth forth sin.'_

'What… does this…'

Seras narrowed her eyes at the passage. She understood what it meant – man is tempted not by God, but by his own desires. _Is he being tempted… by us? Does… does he want this?_ The vampiress looked back at the sleeping man with a rather concerned expression, and then quickly, she re-read the passage just to make sure.

'But every man is tempted by his own concupiscence.' She spoke softly and slowly. 'And… then when concupiscence hath conceived… it… it bringeth forth sin.'

Again, Seras looked back at Anderson, trying to make sense of it. Partly she wanted to wake him and ask him what on earth he was thinking about. She_ could_ have invaded his thoughts and dreams, but that would be… well, it'd be such an 'Alucard' move.

Back to the book once more, and Seras finished off the passage. Her eyes went a bit wide when the words were strung together.

'_But sin, when it is completed, begetteth death.'_

She pressed her lips together.

_Death._

Oh, how she _loathed_ that word. She had dealt with more than her fair share of it in her short time as a Vampire. Now it sounded almost as though Alexander was considering it, maybe as a way out. She swallowed thickly, and looked back down at the passage, scanning the words over and over again as though maybe there was some secret message she wasn't seeing. Maybe she had to look deeper.

'Let no man, when he is tempted, say that he is tempted by God…'

'I never once thought I'd hear one'o your kind reading from the Holy Book.'

Startled, Seras reeled back and pushed herself away from the bed at least a good three or four feet, a delightful grinding noise resonating throughout the room as the metal legs dragged across the granite floor.

She didn't quite know what to say. She marked the Bible page with a finger, and slammed the cover shut, doing her best to pretend she hadn't been looking at it.

Anderson just stared, his expression less than amused.

'S-sorry, I just… couldn't sleep. I didn't mean to wake you up.'

Silence between them, after that.

Seras tried in vain to look away, but the Paladin's eyes pulled her in. Even without words, she could see what he was thinking. What he wanted to say. There was still a great deal of sadness and emptiness in his eyes, and she simply couldn't avoid it. Partially, she didn't want to. If there was anything in the world that a vampire could say to a Catholic priest to put him at ease, she would have said it a million and one times over.

'I couldn't… um. I couldn't sleep, so… I was just checking on you.'

'I'm fine.'

Still, he stared at her.

The Draculina tried to think of something, _anything_ to say. She wanted him to stop staring at her. It made her feel uneasy, like some kind of ethereal higher power was judging her. He was frightening and magnificent all at once, and as difficult as she found it to accept, the Paladin was slightly like Alucard in that respect; Very unnerving.

'I was reading your bible.'

'So I noticed.'

Seras bit her lip discreetly, and turned her eyes down to the cover. Something she couldn't quite put her finger on made her feel strangely at ease with the hefty tome in her hands. The Draculina slowly, hesitantly re-opened it, and ran her fingers across the yellowed and wrinkled page, smoothing it out.

'This passage… Father, I don't want you to think Sir Integra is… is trying to _tempt _y-'

'I'm still alive. I've been given the chance to continue cleansing this Earth of creatures like – ' He'd stopped himself short from saying _'you'._

'…Of creatures like yer Master. I'm still regenerating.' He clenched a fist, and brought it up to his face, wrist turned inward. He was staring at it intently. 'And it's because of this.'

He thrust his arm out to show Seras, as if she had never seen it before.

'So tell me, Draculina, is this a blessing from the Lord? Or is this – my desire to continue his Holy work – A temptation of my own mind?'

Seras just stared, fingers pressed hard against the passage.

'Tell me, d'you think Almighty God would keep me here on this Earth as a vessel of his Divine Punishment, if it meant allying with what everything I know has told me to fight_ against_?'

'Well, I…'

'And tell me, Seras.' His tone was subdued, almost somber. 'What is your place?' He'd turned his eyes away from her.

'Where d'you stand? Your Master Integra tells you to fight In the name of God, or so she says. But how can y'fight in the Lord's Name when you, yerself are a machination of the Devil?'

There was nothing but silence, after that. Seras could hardly think, let alone string together a coherent response. That was the calmest she'd ever seen the Paladin, and yet, it was the most afraid of him she had ever been. His painfully sobering words had wrenched something within her, and she had lost the ability to speak, at all. Moments ticked past, and finally, Alexander turned to face her once more, aqua meeting emerald.

'When you can answer that… when you can make sense of _any_ o'that…' He reached out, his fingers motioning for her to return the bible. '_That's_ when I'll consider working with Hellsing.'

Dumbly, Seras fumbled forward and handed him the book, shaking just slightly. Their gazes remained locked, and she was biting the inside of her lip so hard that it bled.

She wasn't hungry anymore.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** _Goodness gracious it's been a while since I updated this thing. I've been stewing on this chapter for a while because… well, I just had a lot of other things going on. So, I'm sorry to those of you that were expecting this sooner! Very sorry about that. Gomen, a million times over._

_Um, other than that, I've really appreciated your responses. If there is anything you want to see in the upcoming chappies, and I guarantee you there will be more – leave me some suggestions in the comments Thanks!_


	5. V

'This is a highly troubling situation.'

'I have to agree. Sir Hellsing, while we fully appreciate the, er… potential _benefits_ of inducting your new… acquisition, as it were, into the ranks of your organization, we are understandably concerned. '

'I concur. This is a massive risk you are taking, Sir Hellsing, Both to the Protestant Church and the Monarchy. As if it weren't enough that he is a Catholic, he is also a _Scot_.'

Integra sat silent at the head of the Covenant of Twelve, a cigarillo wasting away between loosely entwined fingers. She listened with patience as her colleagues ran her through, verbally. This was nothing new. She had expected it when the thought of keeping Anderson as a Hellsing operative first crossed her mind. Obviously, something like this would have to go through the Council.

'Thank you, Gentlemen.' Her voice rolled over the assembly like a storm cloud; Dark, unstoppable, and full of purpose. 'Of course, all of the concerns you have _would_ be quite valid, if not for a few very advantageous exceptions.'

Her pale sapphire eyes scanned the audience from behind round-rimmed spectacles. She lifted herself from her seat, hands folding gracefully behind her back. 'You must understand that the benefits far outweigh the risks.'

The other Knights looked on in annoyance, waiting for the woman to make her point.

'Paladin Anderson is a very …unique individual. I am not sure how many of you are aware of this, but he had been excommunicated from the Catholic Church. You see, while he still views himself as a very devout Catholic _and _member of the Vatican, he no longer _is_.'

She smiled at them as she continued her speech. 'Not only did the late Bishop Enrico Maxwell defrock Alexander Anderson, he also went so far as to sign an official declaration of Death, _before_ the Paladin even stepped foot into battle against Alucard.'

There was a rumble throughout the room as the men turned to each other, questioning that fact amongst themselves.

'I can assure you, it is legitimate. Even if the Catholic Church made an attempt and reclaiming him or starting some campaign against the Hellsing Organization for recruiting him, their claims would be invalid. For all intents and purposes, they _abandoned_ him. It had been their intention to use him from the very beginning.'

The Knights fell silent, almost as though they were seriously considering the proposition. After of a few moments if internal deliberation, Sir Penwood spoke up.

'And he is aware of _all_ of this?'

'Everything but the meeting we are engaged in at this very moment, yes.'

She smiled at them again, the expression speaking volumes of her confidence. 'Gentlemen, I believe very strongly in the maxim: 'Keep your allies close, and your enemies _closer_.' I'm sure you see my point of view.'

None of the members could argue with that logic. They were all fully aware of the Paladin's fearsome abilities and mercurial disposition. Having him working for Hellsing, _and_ For England would be a massive gain. Nevertheless, on the other side of the coin, Anderson was as close to clinically insane as any of them could imagine. He was a zealot. None of the Knights saw how Integra, or anyone for that matter, would be able to break him of his views. None of them saw the possibility of deprogramming anywhere in his future.

'That… is a compelling argument,' Penwood responded, clearing his throat afterwards. 'However, this is… quite a serious decision. The other council members and I must have a vote of this, and then, I suppose we must also request the consult of Her Majesty.'

'Understandable.' Integra replied coolly. 'I sincerely hope you all think with great care on this issue. He would be an invaluable asset to us.'

With that, the meeting concluded. Walter opened the French doors, cordially seeing each member off after Integra shook their hands. She had been pleasantly surprised, the meeting had gone significantly smoother than she assumed it would, and without any discourteous interruptions from a certain No-Life King. The lack of interruptions was short lived, however. As soon as the last Knight left and the French doors had been shut and secured, the Nosferatu materialized through the floor in a churning cloud of black liquid smoke. He congealed slowly, and lilted over to Integra.

'Quite a show you put on, Master.'

'Don't pester me, Alucard.'

'Oh, absolutely not; I liked the comment you made about keeping your enemies closer. That must be why you keep me around.'

Integra smirked, her expression turning warm. 'I certainly don't consider you an enemy; you know that better than anyone. Don't be coy.'

Alucard reciprocated the expression. 'Of course, my Master.'

Walter excused himself from the room after a few moments, thinking it best to let the two of them converse alone.

'You were around for the entire meeting, weren't you, Alucard?'

'I might have been.'

'You know you're allowed to show your presence. There was no need to hide.'

Alucard smirked, and floated over to an adjacent chair, then made himself comfortable. He removed his glasses and set them on the table with a decidedly metallic 'clink'.

'I guarantee you that if I'd made my presence known they would not have been quite as vocal about their distaste, regarding your decision.'

Integra raised her eyebrows without looking directly at her pet. The faintest hint of a smile crept up on her lips. 'You sincerely don't want Alexander around here, do you?'

The Vampire sniffed. 'Not particularly.'

'And why is that?'

'I just don't see the use in keeping him.' Alucard let his gloved fingers tap quietly against the round mahogany table. 'Seras and I are sufficient.'

Integra kept silent.

'…And she's still very naïve. She is treating that Vatican Dog like an esteemed Diplomat. She should be cautious of him in every move she makes.'

Integra raised her head, tilting it to the side at him in a bemused fashion. She could scarcely believe what the Vampire was saying to her. It seemed almost as though he was jealous. The Knight found it practically endearing, in a way. _Still_, even after five hundred years of living as an undead tormentor, an unholy creature of the night, he still clung to some very human, very_ male_ emotions, even if he would not admit to it. 'She's being accommodating, Alucard. I can't say I like it either, but at least she's trying to make him feel somewhat at ease with us.'

'She's being _stupid.'_ He spat. 'Seals or not, Anderson will never be anything more than a slavering dog on a Crusade.'

Integra's lips tightened and she exhaled sharply through her nose, exasperated. A billowing clould of smoke surrounded her, dissipating slowly as the seconds ticked by. It was no use - arguing with a vampire was tiresome.

'We'll see.'

* * *

><p>By the time the three month anniversary of Anderson's arrival at Hellsing rolled around, the ex-Priest was nearly completely healed. There were a few ongoing concerns. Despite his strength returning, the seals still put a damper on his ability to regenerate <em>completely,<em> and his heart did, at times, have a little trouble keeping up with him. He'd taken to running and Krav Maga as forms of physical therapy. The doctors had insisted he do something other than sit in his bed and sulk all day. The first time they suggested he do 'something', Alexander decided that 'something' should be to try and see if he could escape. The seals made sure he couldn't. They seemed to work a bit like an electrical dog collar – if he got too close to the perimeter of the compound, something he couldn't quite explain would go off inside him – something like a crippling shock of lightening, though painless, would render him temporarily paralyzed, and he'd inevitably get carried back to his room, cussing and howling in protest the whole way.

On this particular Wednesday night, however, he found himself in the west wing of the Mansion, reclined in one of the opulent wing-backed chairs in the Library. In his hands he held his Bible, nose buried deep in the Book of Sophonias. The Paladin and been contemplating and reflecting on his less than satisfactory situation since the day he regained consciousness, and he had been battling with himself since then on what the right decision was to make. He could recall the conversations he'd had with Seras about his, and _her_ place in the world, and what bothered him more than anything was that he had somewhat expected the young Draculina to actually provide him with a finite answer. He had _hoped_ for it. Guilt weighed heavy on his shoulders as he realized that with each passing day, the Bible was giving him more questions than answers. That had _never_ been the case, before.

'Seek the Lord, all ye meek of the earth,' He recited quietly. 'You that have wrought his judgment: seek the just, seek the meek: if by any means you may be hidden in the day of the Lord's indignation'

Anderson furrowed his brow.

'You that have wrought his judgment…'

'You've read that passage about a million times, already.'

The voice was feminine and sweet, and it caused the Paladin to shake himself out of his self-involved trance. His head snapped up, and he found himself face to face with the young Draculina. She looked… frumpy, at best. Her hair was an absolute mess, and she was clothed in just about the ugliest pair of sweat pants anyone had ever seen, paired with an oversized thermal.

'Ye look awful.'

Seras cocked an eyebrow at him. 'Thank you. I was sleeping.' She leaned against the door frame and gave a yawn. 'Shouldn't _you_ be asleep by now?'

Anderson shrugged. 'It's not that late.'

'For you, it is.'

'It's Midnight.'

'You're not tired?'

'No.'

'Well… I'm going to go brew some tea. Do you want a cup?'

Alexander shrugged. During the weeks that he'd spent at Hellsing, Seras had learned to interpret a shrug as 'Yes, please.' The one time he'd offered the movement as a response, and she'd neglected to bring him tea, he had not been very understanding about it, at all.

'Alright.' She sighed.

It wasn't long before the Draculina had returned with a piping hot kettle of water, two mugs, and the quintessential sugar and milk. Without very much concern for the table, she set each item down with a 'thud', and began mixing her own drink the way she liked it. She considered it very lucky that tea with a little sugar was one of the few human culinary pleasures she could still indulge in without getting very violently ill.

Once her teaspoon of sugar had been mixed with the tea leaves and hot water, she set the cup down to steep. Once again, she watched Anderson as he decimated the Brodie's with an onslaught of sugar and milk.

They sat across from each other, both in silence. Anderson had pretended to go back to reading his Bible, but he was just staring at the page, not really processing the words. Seras' presence brought to mind the fact that tomorrow, the 'Covenant of Twelve' or whatever it was that Integra called it would rule on whether or not Hellsing would accept him into their ranks. He felt it was a bit comical. Not too many months ago, he cursed the organization with every fibre of his being, despite the substantial evidence that the Church had done a pretty significant amount of damage to him on its own. Now, the very house that he used to fight against had taken him in, mended him, given him a second chance at doing the work of the Lord. In all technicality, _that_ was Christianity defined. And yet, he could not come to terms with it. He had tried searching his heart, his soul, and his head and anywhere else he could think to look for answers. Still, he came up with nothing. Despite being completely rejected and abandoned by the Catholic Church, there was something so deeply ingrained in him that just would _not_ allow him to openly accept Hellsing's offer.

'What do you think is going to happen, tomorrow?' Seras asked between sips.

'I don't know. I don't really wan'tae think on it.'

'You have to, though.' She sighed quietly. 'I know Master Integra said there wasn't a time limit for your decision… but I mean, once this goes through the Covenant, and they say you're okay to join us, you're _going_ to have a time limit, you know?'

Alexander tensed up. He wished she would stop talking, mainly because he was fully aware of how right she was. At some point, he would have to either say yes or no. At some point, the option to join Hellsing and continue to purify in the name of God would be removed from the table, and who knows where he'd go from then on out. What made this entire situation even more frightening was the fact that he honestly _had_ considered accepting the offer. The fact that his mind wandered in such a direction shook what little of his faith he had left, right down to the core. He felt helpless. For the first time in a very long time, probably since he was an enlisted man – he felt completely and utterly helpless.

'I know.'

Seras stirred her tea in response, the spoon clinking daintily against the porcelain.

'It's really not fair, is it?'

The Paladin didn't reply.

'It's not fair. I understand it, trust me.' She took another sip. 'I get it.'

The Draculina lifted herself from her chair, and moved to one closer to the studious ex-Priest.

'The Vatican doesn't want you. You don't even exist anymore, according to them.' She was cautious to maintain a respectful tone. 'Hellsing _does_ want you, but I bet you feel like we're just going to use you; like you're just a weapon, or something. Kind of like… well, kind of like Maxwell did, I guess. I know that it doesn't help that on top of all of that, Hellsing employs _vampires.'_

She smirked, looking down at her teacup. Alexander had raised his head, and was now staring at her in the most curious fashion.

'And, I bet you probably think I'm saying this because I'm being put up to it.' Seras set the cup down and waved her hands dramatically. '_Ooh, _the Jezebel Demoness, coming to corrupt you.' She exhaled. 'That's not my plan though. I don't even _have_ a plan, or agenda or anything, really.'

Still, Anderson sat in silence, listening to her as she continued on. Hearing these things coming for a creature of the night – such heartfelt words – it was unsettling.

'I'm the same as you are. I didn't have a choice.' She ran her fingers through her hair. 'Well, I _did_, but my choices were that I could either die, or become some creepy undead creature that kills demons and stuff. Only… at the time, I didn't know the second choice would involve… y'know. _Demons_.'

She paused.

'…And killing.'

Seras was feeling more than a little misunderstood. Anderson was looking at her like a deer caught in the headlights, and she prayed that she wasn't making his decision any harder than it had to be. Something inside her just told her to reach out to him, and she couldn't ignore it.

'And I mean… this 'unlife' isn't so bad. I protect people who need protection; I punish those that deserve punishment. Realistically, it's not much different than when I was just a Police Girl. I still do the same thing, only now I'm a vampire, I guess.' She polished off her tea as daintily as she could. 'All I can say is I hope you understand that.'

She offered him a shy smile.

'I don't think it was fair of Sir Integra to scrape you together. She should have let you die. And I don't mean that… in a bad way.' The Draculina stuttered. 'I mean… we should have left you to be a martyr, like you wanted. I'm so sorry that now, you've got this decision to make.'

Their eyes were locked.

'I know. It's not fair. Believe me.'

The Paladin was a little more than dumbfounded. As per usual, a very loud and squelchy voice in the back of his head was screaming at him that this was all just a ruse to get him to join the 'Dark Side', at the risk of sounding Darth Vader-esque. It was screaming at him that she was an impure creature, not any more worthy of his acceptance or sympathies than a ghoul would be. Of course she had human eyes, a human face and a human voice, but that nagging thing in the back of his mind would not _shut up._ Only this time, the nagging thing just sounded_ wrong._ That was the only way he could describe it. The judgmental thoughts and ideas, for some reason, just seemed amazingly wrong.

Seras certainly sensed the ex-Priest's conflict. She worried her bottom lip between her teeth, desperately trying to decide how to react. He just looked so _sad_, so lost. It was a side of him that she had never seen. Undoubtedly, it was one she did not know even existed, up until now. From the very bottom of her cold, dead, un-beating heart, she could understand his struggle. She understood it in a way that even the words she'd offered him did not fully explain, and that bothered her profoundly.

The Vampiress stood up and moved forward, collecting both her empty cup and his. She stood before him, unmoving, but only for a moment. Viridian never left Aqua. It really was just… so _unfair._

She extended her arm, her left hand moving forward. Her fingertips gingerly met the side of his face, and her thumb moved with an indescribable softness across his cheek. Alexander sat frozen, brows furrowed at her in an expression of utter surprise. Though it had not been her intention to cause him any embarrassment, she could see color rise in his cheeks, and she lowered her eyes at him.

'You look so tired,' Seras offered, apologetically. 'You need some rest.'

The Draculina let her hand fall from the stunned Paladin's face, and again, she flashed him a quick, understanding smile. Seras _knew_ she had promised not to ever enter his mind again, but this time… it just _happened._

_Everything will be okay._ She offered. _I promise, everything will be okay._

* * *

><p><strong><em>AN:_**_ GEEZ! Two chapters in a day? I'm going nuts. :S Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this one. Reviews = happy author! It makes me feel like what I'm doing is worth continuing. You're all lovely, thanks!_


	6. VI

Alexander had decided that sleep, however difficult to attain, was a necessity. He'd stayed up in the library until nearly four or five in the morning for the past few days, and eventually, he found himself agreeing with what the Draculina had said. He _was_ tired. He _needed_ to sleep, despite the fact that it brought him little comfort or relief. After his most recent night spent studying various religious texts and volumes, he'd managed to drag himself back to the room that had been provided for him. Thankfully, Integra had been accommodating enough to allow him a proper bedroom for as long as he was staying.

After the agonizingly long walk back to his quarters, the exhausted Paladin hobbled into the room, letting the heavy oaken door slowly shut itself behind him under its own weight. He was lucky he had enough energy in him to make it over to the bed.

Thank _God_ for that bed.

Heaving a deep sigh, the ex-priest buried his face in the pillow. He couldn't even consider his predicament anymore; his brain simply wouldn't allow it. He'd put himself through enough moral torment for now, and he just wanted to shut down. The last few moments of his consciousness were instead spent thinking of the Vampiress. Despite his efforts, Anderson just couldn't erase her eerily human expressions from his memory. There was a large part of him that still loathed the creature for a variety of reasons, and yet, he felt an even larger part of him grow… the part of him that was possibly beginning to accept her.

* * *

><p>'So <em>this<em> is where he's been all day long.'

A sudden burst of warm light spilled into the room; the soft glow of the afternoon sun washed over the sleeping Paladin's face. He knit his brows, gave an unconscious snort, and turned away from it.

Walter stood in front of the now open draperies, arms crossed over his chest in a way that denoted a complete lack of amusement. His backlit silhouette strode forward to Anderson's bedside, one eyebrow raised.

'Paladin Anderson, Sir Integra has requested your presence in her office.'

No response. Walter sighed.

'Paladin Anderson, wake up. _Now.'_

Walter's voice heightened in volume, and it seemed as though that was enough to get the blonde man to open his eyes. Slowly, he tried to blink the sleep out of them. His vision still blurry, he did his best to look up at whoever had woken him. The sunlight made that quite the chore, as did the fact that in the night his glasses had somehow migrated away from his face to settle under his torso. He succeeded in retrieving them, and bent the disfigured right arm mostly back into its original shape.

'I'm _so_ glad you had such a refreshing sleep, Anderson.' Walter chided him. Despite his acerbic tone, his voice was as cool and calm as ever. 'Sir Integra has sent me to retrieve you. There's something she wishes to discuss with you.'

Anderson gave the aging manservant a rather blank look, completely unimpressed. 'When do I have t'go?' The question was punctuated with a yawn.

'_Now_ would be ideal, I imagine.'

Anderson slumped back against the mattress, clearly not interested in making any attempt whatsoever to get up.

'…Unless of course, you'd rather have her send _Alucard_ to retrieve you, in my stead.' Walter quipped.

That did the trick.

The Paladin sluggishly made _something_ of an effort to get out of bed. When he was at least standing up, Walter seemed satisfied enough. Alexander trudged over to the draperies and yanked them shut, having had more than enough of his fill of blinding afternoon sunlight. He sighed deeply. 'What does she want with me now?' He questioned. 'I can't… give her any word on my decision yet.'

Walter cleared his throat. 'I'm not at liberty to discuss it. Sir Integra wanted to speak with you personally on the matter.'

* * *

><p>As he made his way to the office, Anderson felt like there was a rock stuck in his throat. Integra was going to give him an ultimatum, he was sure of it. And what could he do? What <em>would<em> he do, even if he had any of his abilities? At some point in the past, that question wouldn't have required any thought or consideration whatsoever… A Protestant sow presenting one of the _truly_ Righteous – a Catholic – with an ultimatum? The very notion would have been laughable. However, it was a reality, now. It was a reality that Anderson was not fully prepared to face, and with every step he took, he felt as though he was paving his way to the gallows.

When he reached the top of the staircase leading to Integra's office, two doormen offered him the cordiality of pulling the massive French doors open for him. He didn't bother to offer either of them any thanks.

'Ah, Paladin Anderson.' Integra was seated behind her desk, and once again a Nosferatu flanked her at either side. 'I was hoping Walter had convinced you.'

'What's all this about, then?' His tone was grave.

'I have an opportunity for you.'

'An opportunity?' The Paladin scoffed. 'An' just _what_ kind of opportunity is this?'

Integra reclined in her chair, and took a long drag of the cigar bud she held between her gloved fingers. She lowered her eyes at a very, _very_ thick file sitting on the desk.

'There is no doubt you are already aware of the countless messes Millennium has caused… their engineered vampire FREAKs, their mass destruction – '

'Aye that I am.' The Paladin was not in a particularly enduring mood.

'Yes, well… Despite the fact that the organization no longer exists, we are _still_ cleaning up their messes. We are _still _dealing with FREAK vampires. The United Kingdom seems to have no shortage of them, and they like to leave trails wherever they go. It's a bit of a problem.'

Alucard chuckled darkly. 'Not for _me._'

Anderson narrowed his eyes at the Nosferatu, and Integra followed suit. Their obvious mutual annoyance did not seem to discourage him in the least.

'…Barring that,' She continued. 'These creatures _do_ need to be dealt with. As you know, this is where we come in. This is what Hellsing does, Paladin, and I believe it would benefit you to… experience it. To see how it is that we operate, from our perspective.'

Anderson's eyes widened. What was she getting at? She wasn't going to send _him_ out on a mission alone, was she? Protestant, Heretic, Blasphemer, all of these things Integra most certainly was… However, she definitely was _not_ stupid. This simply made no sense.

'And it's yer plan to pit me against these creatures in Hellsing's name?' The ex-Priest asked, his voice taking on an almost jovial quality. 'Laughable.'

'My _plan_ is for you to learn.' She exhaled. 'My _plan_ is for you to hopefully understand what we are offering you. Perhaps then, your decision might be an easier one to make.'

The Knight reached forward, and then flipped the cover of the manila folder open. There were photographs atop the stack of papers, and she took hold of them. Integra spent a few moments studying them, her eyes scanning slowly over the images. A sigh escaped her lips along with a cloud of cigarillo smoke; her irritation was more than obvious. The Knight extended her arm, offering them to the Paladin.

'Here.'

Slowly, he moved towards the desk, making sure to keep an eye on Alucard. Even though he was a pet – even though he was leashed, Anderson still considered him to be _more_ than dangerous. The ex-Priest would always be wary of the No-Life King. If he'd had his blessed blades with him, Anderson would've run him through just for the sport of it.

Alexander accepted the photographs and scanned over them, brows furrowing with each passing image. In spite of the fact that they were of nothing he hadn't seen before, the pictures were still disturbing and repulsive. Dead, stinking ghouls were splayed out in pools of blood and entrails. It was definitely the work of a vampire. Some looked like they were young women, and there were even a few that appeared to be children; that disgusted Anderson the most. It would have been traumatizing if not for his past experiences with such unimaginable filth, but the only reaction it could elicit from him was resentment.

'These are abominations unto the Lord. May God have mercy on their eternal souls, Amen.' He grit his teeth. This was unacceptable. If Iscariot had still been operational, they would have taken care of this 'problem' _before_ it even became one.

'These photographs were taken in Plaistow. We have reason to believe that this is the work of more than just one FREAK. There must be at least three or four of them, and they must be exterminated immediately.' Integra crushed the remains of the cigarillo in the crystalline ashtray, and continued on. 'I want you to accompany Alucard and Seras to deal with these bastards.'

Anderson looked up from the pictures to give Integra one of his most intimidating scowls. He was less than impressed with the idea. While he would be more than happy to dispose of this garbage, the prospect of doing it while under Hellsing's watchful eye seemed impertinent, somehow. Integra was trying to impose a pair of undead babysitters on him; that was the only way he could see it. Not to mention, there were other logistical issues he wasn't sure the Protestant Heretic had considered.

'An' what am I supposed t'do?' He asked. 'Shall I simply charge in without being armed? Or would ye prefer I act as bait?' His tone was vitriolic.

Integra smirked as she crossed one leg over another. The Paladin was certainly amusing.

'You've had military training, correct?'

'Aye, but – '

'Then you should still remember how to handle a gun. We won't be mobilizing for another few hours, at least.' Integra had risen from her chair to walk over to one of the large Cathedral windows.

'We'll have to wait until sunset.' She pushed the curtain aside, letting a sliver of golden light peek through. 'Those sad excuses for Vampires won't be moving until then.'

Anderson said nothing. There were too many thoughts sloshing around in his mind for him to even begin to make words or sentences out of them. He didn't want to go with Seras, and he especially did not want to go with _Alucard._ It was insulting, at best. How on earth could Integra expect a Man of God to ally so easily – even for one night, with undead scum? With _heretics_? A fog seemed to enter his mind; those thoughts became the only ones he could process.

_Blasphemers. Heretics. Snake-tongued filth. I am above this, I sit at the right hand of the Lord God; this is an outrage!_

The words bubbled up inside him like a cauldron atop a flame. The Paladin glared daggers at Integra, despite the fact that her back was turned to him. He _hoped_ that she felt it. The worst part of it was that they weren't asking him to do something he didn't want to. He _did_ want to get out there and cleave those sick, disgusting creatures in two. He wanted nothing more than to Purify again – to be an instrument of God's Holy Punishment once more. The major conflict though, was that it was _Hellsing_ that wanted him to do it. Not the Vatican, not Iscariot, and not the Catholic Church.

'Seras, if you would, please escort Paladin Anderson to the Armory. I'll have Walter meet you there.'

The Draculina perked up after having remained silent for so long. 'Yes, Sir!' came her enthusiastic response. She smiled at the ex-Priest, but her smile quickly dissipated when he reciprocated with an irate glare.

'Very well.' The Knight turned, and addressed her No-Life King. 'Alucard, I want you to stay out of the way until it's time. I expect you to keep your distance from Anderson. Is that clear?'

The Vampire offered his master a Cheshire grin, ruby eyes shining at her. In dramatic fashion, he removed his hat and bowed deeply to her, before sinking through the marble floor in a miasma of black.

'_As you wish, my Master.'_

Anderson cringed. It was so frustrating that Alucard freely used his dark magic in plain view. If only he had is blessed blades; if only he had his Holy sheaves, he'd have dyed the entire compound with blood by now. Being in the den of the lion with no means of defense or retaliation was eating at the corners of his mind like a necrotic plague; he hated it. It was horrible.

'Seras – if you would be so kind, I'd like you to wait for Mr. Anderson outside the office. There is one last thing I must discuss with him – alone.'

'O-Of course, Sir.' The young Draculina saluted Integra, and then started to make her way past the still-scowling ex Priest. She could tell he wasn't happy about this arrangement. He was barely tolerating it. Still, that said something for improvement, in her opinion.

After the doors had shut behind her, the room was painfully silent. Integra sat across from Alexander, her Icy gaze passing over him again and again. Her expression was thoughtful, accented with the slightest hint of concern. She was well aware of the risks of letting the Paladin out so soon. There was a myriad of circumstances that could go horribly wrong, and the last thing she wanted was to lose her Prize so easily to a horde of careless Freak Vampires.

'Now then…' She began as she plucked another cigarillo from its case. 'I will tell you this once, and once only, Paladin Alexander Anderson.' Her tone was stone cold and deadly serious. 'When you leave the compound tonight, you are for all intents and purposes, an agent of the Hellsing Organization. In addition to that, you must consider yourself _completely_ human. You are vulnerable.'

Anderson could feel his temper rising. How _dare_ she speak to him this way? If the Vatican had still been supporting him, there wasn't a doubt in his mind that Integra wouldn't dare to be so bold and callous. The only reason she was speaking to him in such a manner was because there was no risk of a war – there was no threat of retaliation.

'Now _you_ listen here, ye wicked English _whore –'_

'I _SINCERELY_ recommend you hold your tongue, Catholic _Dog.' _She shot him a look that was dripping with poison. '_You_ will not tell _me_ to do a damned thing, do you understand?' She grimaced at the blonde man. 'I am sending you out tonight to _observe._ If you must defend yourself, then that is your prerogative. However, if you attempt to make a _single _mark on any of my men, undead or otherwise, I assure you it will not end well.'

'Empty threats from a Protestant Heretic, no doubt.'

'You think so?' She smirked. 'Anderson, be aware that I do see you has an invaluable asset to the Hellsing organization. Despite that, if you make _any _attempt at inflicting damage against my ranks, I have given Alucard preemptive orders to cut you down, rip your sorry carcass apart, _bathe_ in your blood, and eat whatever of you is left so that you will _never_ reach Heaven.'

Anderson stood there, face frozen in revulsion.

He could not say a thing.

'Until you decide whether you are for or against us, those Seals on your arms are there to keep your powers suppressed. They are there to keep you _human, _and humans _die.'_

The stunned Paladin could scarcely compose a response. How _vile_ these people – no, not people – _creatures… _How absolutely vile they were. Whatever small flame of understanding Anderson had begun to involuntarily kindle in his heart had now been completely snuffed out. They did not _deserve_ his understanding. Seras was absolutely wrong. How in Heaven's name could she possibly consider Integra Hellsing to be _kind?_ How could the Draculina not see any of this? He felt sick to his stomach after the Knight had finished speaking. He wanted to retch.

'Now go. Seras is waiting for you.'

* * *

><p>As they walked along the halls, Seras found it incredibly difficult not to say something to the Paladin. Despite the fact that Integra had ordered her to wait outside the office, she still ended up hearing every exchange. It troubled her, and she wanted badly to say something apologetic. Of course, she could understand Integra's caution and severity, but Seras couldn't help noticing that it just pushed Anderson even further away. She had looked up at the ex-Priest more than once, and each time she glanced at him, he wore that same heated scowl. This was a difficult situation.<p>

'Father, I – '

'Dannae speak to me.'

His response came quickly, but it was calm, and very matter-of-fact. Seras held her words in her throat, still staring up at the blonde man. Her eyebrows were worried upwards, and if he would have let her, she'd have apologized on Integra's behalf but there was just too much conflict between the two sides, and she felt helpless. This was not fair.

Defeated, she turned her gaze to the floor, trying to think of ways to quell Anderson's rage. Realistically, his anger was completely warranted. It was just… a misunderstanding. Integra wanted to keep her assets guarded and safe by being so cautious with the ex-Priest, and Anderson would inevitably interpret this as blatant disrespect. It was a vicious cycle. The best Seras could hope for at this point that killing a few ghouls tonight would help him take his mind off of things, and hopefully help him to see what Hellsing's goal really was.

Time passed quickly it seemed, and before long the unlikely pair had arrived before a large, reinforced titanium door. It looked almost like a bank vault, only more intricate. Seras stepped forward, and quickly punched in a combination using the numerical pad.

'_Welcome. Voice recognition protocol activated.'_

The young Draculina sighed.

'In the name of God, impure souls of the living dead shall be banished into eternal damnation, Amen.'

'_Good evening, Operative Seras Victoria. Welcome to the Hellsing Armory.'_

The sound of steel and hydraulics resonated throughout the hallway as the locks began moving on their own. After a few seconds, the main door to the armory slid open, revealing a large, rather bland looking room when compared to the rest of the compound. The walls were lined with every manner of weaponry, though; everything from grenade launchers to derringers, all in every caliber imaginable.

There in the middle of the room was Walter, smiling warmly at the young Vampiress. He stood before what appeared to be a workbench, and he was busying himself with polishing a ludicrously large handgun. His attentions momentarily turned to the Paladin, who seemed rather unimpressed with the array of weaponry.

'Good evening, Miss Victoria.'

'Hello, Walter.' Her reply was lofty and shaky.

'I assume Sir Integra has already briefed you both on the plan for tonight, correct?'

'Yeah, I guess..' She shrugged. 'Dunno how good of an idea it is, though.'

Anderson looked down at her curiously.

'Well.' Walter, gun in hand, beckoned the two over to the workbench. 'Orders are orders, so we'd better get started… Mr. Anderson, I presume you are still aware of how to handle a firearm?'

He didn't bother to give a vocal answer. Anderson decided a nod was more than enough.

'Splendid.' Walter sounded less than enthused. 'In that case, this will be your weapon for tonight. I apologize – while I am relatively adept at machining custom firearms, swords are not my expertise. This will have to suffice.'

The butler unlatched the cylinder, emptying it of bullets. 'The Smith & Wesson .500 magnum, modified. Barrel length, eighteen inches.' He began. 'The ammunition isn't especially unique, but the clips you'll be armed with tonight do have a blessed silver core, and _are_ explosive. They're somewhat similar to what I make for Master Alucard… they could pack a bit more of a punch, though.' Walter smirked. 'I wasn't sure how adept you are at _aiming.'_

Walter reluctantly handed the weapon over to the ex-Priest, and took a step backwards to let Anderson inspect his new gun.

'It's… heavy.'

'Yes, it _is… _it's big, loud and destructive…' The butler chuckled to himself. 'Quite a bit like _you.'_

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** Phew! This chapter _almost_ got to be too long. I've got about half of chapter seven written, I actually had to split it apart from this one. (I'm trying to keep them all relatively the same length. :P)

Anyway, I super duper appreciate all of the feedback you guys are giving me. The more comments I get, the more encouraged I am to write!

Ooh, and as a little added bonus, I was doodling today P: The story inspired some art. I did a doodle of Anderson looking sulky and bitchy, and another one of his seal… if you guys like them, I might include more in the future :3

Here's the link... you'll have to copy and paste it into your browser since FFN won't let me make links :

i52 . tinypic . com /o9k2z9 . png

Remove the spaces and enjoy :3


	7. VII

'_No._ Ah'm _NOT _wearin' this.'

'Would you _prefer_ to go into battle without any protection whatsoever? I'm sure you'd make a marvelous target for our enemies.' Walter's response was painfully dry.

The last half hour had been spent trying to convince the ex-Priest to don the Hellsing uniform. It wasn't really a matter of allegiance; it was more or less an issue of wearing something bulletproof. Not to mention, the cassock he was so accustomed to wearing had been ripped to shreds long ago, so that wasn't even an option, as much as he wanted it to be. Normally his regenerative qualities would have had a major hand in keeping him alive during battle, but now that the abilities were suppressed, taking extra precautions shouldn't have even been an issue. Anderson was more than willing to make it an issue, though.

'Nae, I don' want to go at _all.' _The Paladin growled at the smaller man.

Walter had become more than exasperated throughout this entire ordeal. He'd done his best to keep his cool – a proper Englishman would always do his best not to lose his temper. However, Anderson had been grating his nerves and pushing all the right buttons in _exactly_ the right order, and he'd had about enough of it. With all due respect to Integra, this pet project of hers was quickly turning into an episode of babysitting gone awry. If Walter could have had it his way, he'd have just sent Anderson straight back to the Vatican all tied up with a bow, whether or not they wanted him.

'Well.' The butler began, feigning loss. 'I've done my best to convince you.' He offered a shrug. 'I can safely say that if you sustain any damage, you will not be missed, Sir.'

He turned his attention to the Draculina.

'Miss Victoria, I'm leaving this up to you.' He smiled casually at her. 'I've provided the arms and uniform. I'll leave it to you to get him to use them.'

Seras sputtered and reeled for a moment. How on earth did Walter expect her to convince Anderson of _anything?_ She reckoned that getting the Paladin to wear Hellsing's colors would be about as easy as bailing a sinking canoe with a sieve. She watched in utter defeat as Walter waved to her a polite goodbye, and made his way out of the room. Anderson stood directly to her right, still staring at the monster of a revolver. She looked at him, and then back at the Armory door as it slid shut. Then, back to him again.

Alright, the odds were at least…_ somewhat_ in her favor. If anyone from within the Hellsing Organization could convince Alexander Anderson of anything, it would definitely be her. Her chances would have certainly been a bit higher if not for the fact that everyone seemed to want to step all over the Paladin at any chance they got, but this is what she was given to work with. Hopefully something would stick.

'Um, Father…'

'I don' want tae hear it, Draculina. I'll go out an' fight ghouls and vampires, but _not_ while championin' Hellsing's name.'

He was incorrigible. Never in all of her twenty two years on this earth had she ever met someone so exceedingly pompous and stubborn.

Well, actually now that she thought about it, Alucard wasn't a far cry…

'You _have_ to listen to Sir Integra,' She begged him. 'You're going to get pummeled if you don't. Please…'

Anderson looked down at the withering Draculina, and then back at the revolver. Rolling his eyes, he turned and set the gun down on the workbench, and glowered at the young creature of the night. He was _not_ impressed. This was another tactic to get him to feel sorry for her, or what have you. It couldn't be anything more. He'd definitely heard what Integra said, and he didn't appreciate being threatened with becoming her vampire dog's next meal. He heard all of the defiance and vitriol in her voice, and as far as he was concerned, that's the only way it could have possibly been interpreted.

'An' jes _what_ does It matter to you, Draculina?' He delivered the question quite scathingly.

Seras crossed her arms at him. She'd had nearly enough.

'Because,' she protested. 'There's not a damn reason in the world for you to just go out there and _die.'_

'Bein' held captive by a houseful a' Heretics is reason enough, I'd reckon.'

Seras bristled. 'We _saved_ you!'

'_Saved me? _Only the Lord can save me. Ye want to corrupt me!'

'No, we're trying to _help you!'_

'_By denying me my Religion!' _He roared. 'You lot think yer _helpin'_ me by preventin' the strength of God to flow through me?' The Paladin towered over her, Emerald eyes blazing. 'Nae, all yer doin' is _corrupting_ a servant of the Lord to support yer own _Godless_ crusade. No better'n that fool, Maxwell.'

He narrowed his eyes at her.

'Ye listen tae me now, daughter of Lilith. I am _Iscariot._ I answer to no one's cause but _The Lord's.'_

Seras grit her teeth at him. This was infuriating. Anderson was so_ blind_ with his own righteousness that he couldn't look past his doctrines. He couldn't see the opportunity that Integra had so generously presented him with. Why couldn't he understand? Fighting unholy filth was _still_ fighting for God, no matter _which_ army you allied with. Hellsing, Iscariot, the Vatican… they were just names. Just _labels._ If he could get past that, if he could only see…

'Then **do it,** Judas.' Her tone was deep. _Angry. _The Vampiress' eyes flashed vermillion, and she scowled at him._ '_You say you fight for God? Then **do it,** and stop wallowing in semantics.'

The Paladin stood there dumbly; watching as Seras turned from him, strode over to the far right wall, and plucked her Harkonnen from it. She slung the massive gun over her shoulder with little effort, and bent down to pick up her ammunitions case. As she made her way to the Armory door, she flashed the blonde man a judgmental glare.

'We have the same goal, Father.' Seras' tone was commanding, but then she paused, her expression softening a bit. 'Don't… let your beliefs get in the way of that.'

* * *

><p>Seras sat on the bumper of one of the Humvees in the assembly yard, sorting her ammunition and thinking quietly to herself. She was actually enjoying the small moment of peace she had to herself, especially since she knew what would be coming to her in a few hours. It wasn't that she <em>disliked<em> purifying; she just… didn't want to have to deal with both her master _and_ Anderson at the same time.

'_Seras, you're projecting your emotions again.'_

Well, speak of the Devil.

_Sorry Master.' _She replied mentally. '_It's just… I don't know. I'm not sure if …If having Father Anderson join us tonight is such a good idea._

She could practically _feel_ Alucard's amusement. It bubbled around her, rising like shaken soda water. In retrospect, she probably could have chosen her words a bit better.

_Having problems with the new pet already? What a shame, he isn't even housebroken._

_He's just being stubborn, that's all. He'd rather go and get himself shot to pieces instead of wearing one of our uniforms, for protection's sake._

_Then that's his prerogative, Seras. Don't concern yourself._

She sighed. How easy it must be for him to say such things. How simple it must be, for someone who makes little distinction between what is moral or immoral. Those two words might as well have not even existed in Alucard's vocabulary. She wished she could let the issue go, but it was just too problematic. Her conscience was still too loud, and the last thing she wanted was to see Anderson die at the hands of a ghoul, especially in his current condition. How long had it been since he was just _…human?_ Would he even be able to handle himself as such, or would he still try to fight like a regenerator?

_In any case, _Alucard continued. _Prepare yourself. Master Integra is sending the third regiment out right now. We'll be on the move soon._

Seras wrinkled her brow. _Yes… Master._

The Vampiress clasped her ammo case shut, and hopped down from the bumper. She straightened her skirt and her gloves, and with minimal effort, slung the anti-Midian cannon over her left shoulder. Predictably, Alucard materialized in front of her from an amorphous black miasma, but he said nothing to her. He offered her a curious grin, and that was it. Seras didn't question it. She hadn't the energy to get into guessing games with her Sire.

'Master is on her way… she's got our new Dog with her.' Alucard looked down at the Draculina from the corner of his eye. Seras lifted an eyebrow at him.

'And… the regiment?'

'They're waiting for us at the rendezvous.'

They stood together, side by side, waiting for the arrival of their Master and new, albeit unwilling companion. Seras wanted to say something. She wanted to ask Alucard what he thought of all of this. It was so unfair that he could easily break her mental barriers and peer into her mind whenever it struck his fancy – but she could not do the same to him.

When Integra finally appeared in the archway leading from the compound, Seras' eyes widened. The flaxen-haired Knight had a smug look of satisfaction on her face, and Anderson stood beside her, glowering.

It was a sight Seras never thought she would ever see in her life, or _un-life. _There, the Paladin stood – unhappy as ever, spectacles glinting menacingly in the moonlight. Only now, he didn't look like a Vatican Priest, he looked like a soldier…

A _Hellsing._

The familiar army green ensemble, accented with combat boots and white gloves actually didn't look half bad on him. She was surprised to see him in it, no doubt, but she was relieved. Seras supposed that taking a bit of a strict tone with the Paladin hadn't done too much harm to him, at least that much was clear. It was just so strange to see the Hellsing crest on him. Strange, but promising. Her excitement dulled when her Master began to speak, though.

'Well, would you look at that? Pious Paladin Angel Dust – a _sheep_ in wolf's clothing. This should make for a _very_ interesting night.'

Integra rolled her eyes at the backwards metaphor.

'Keep yer accursed maw shut, ye demon.' Anderson snapped back.

The No-Life king gave his Master a devilish grin. Indeed, this _would_ make for an interesting night. Integra cleared her throat decisively, and took a few steps forward, leaving the Paladin standing awkwardly behind her.

'Alucard, you have orders to go on ahead. I will be sending Seras _alone_ with Anderson. Your mission is to seek out any undead scum that would stand against us, and destroy them.'

The Vampire gave a low chuckle, and bowed. 'As you command, my _Master.'_

And with that, he seemed to evaporate.

'Now, for the two of you…'

Integra turned back to Alexander, giving him a very stern look. She knew how risky this was. Regenerator or not, Anderson was still an overly righteous, God-loving, Bible-thumping fool, and that alone could get anyone into serious trouble. She hoped she was making the right decision by sending him out with Seras, tonight. It seemed that the young Vampiress had a certain kinship with the man, despite their obviously differing viewpoints and backgrounds. It was a bit uncanny. There was definitely some hostility between the two of them, but Anderson didn't react to Seras with half the resentment that he did with Alucard.

'I want you to stay together, above all.' She turned to Seras. 'You need to keep an eye on him. Make sure he doesn't over-exert himself. Make sure he comes back alive.'

'I kin' handle myself jes' fine -'

'This is _not_ something up for discussion, Anderson. Whether you think you can handle yourself or not isn't my concern. My concern is to expose you to our work, and make sure you come back _alive.'_

* * *

><p>The drive to the rendezvous wasn't especially long, but it was awkward. Anderson sat in the passenger seat, sulking and yanking at the Hellsing coat of Arms on his bulletproof vest. Seras had wanted to tell him to stop pulling at it a few times, but thought better of it. The last thing she needed before a mission was to have a screaming match with an indignant Priest. Instead, they drove in silence. Well, for Anderson, at least. As much as Seras tried to ignore it, she couldn't. Alexander was projecting his thoughts – much like she had done to Alucard. Every emotion, even every image in his head seemed to resonate freely from him. It was like listening to a radio program - A very angry, preachy radio program.<p>

'…We're getting out here.' The Draculina parked the Humvee a few blocks away from the rendezvous, so as to not rouse any attention from civilian onlookers at a centralized point. Missions like these required some tact.

'An' we're gonna be walkin' the rest of the way?' Anderson's voice was unexpectedly calm.

'Yeah, the third regiment has this area surrounded, so we can walk freely.' She shut her door and moved to the back of the vehicle to retrieve her weapon. 'You've still got that gun Walter gave you, right?'

'Aye.' The Paladin reached for it, drawing it quickly from the holster he'd been given. 'It's loaded.'

'Good.'

Their conversation was brief, but curiously civil. Maybe Seras was wrong… maybe this wouldn't be too bad of an idea.

'Come on, then. This way.' She motioned to Anderson, and he followed.

They were on high guard the entire way. The hairs on the back of Seras' neck tingled …she could feel her quarry. She could smell them. FREAK vampires always had a very distinct scent – a bit like burnt rubber. As they progressed into the borough further, she became aware of other scents… ghouls. And… there was one more she couldn't quite place. It was unusual. Something about that particular smell had an almost menacing quality to it, and she was sure she'd caught a whiff of it it once before.

_Master… Are you there?_

_I am, Police girl. What do you see?_

_I don't …see anything yet, but… do you smell that? Something's different, here._

_Yes, I caught the scent when I first arrived. Just stay in the shadows… be on your guard. There are more than freaks and ghouls here._

_Yes, Master._

'Draculina… there's somethin' afoot.' Anderson said, doing his best to keep his voice at a low rumble.

'I know. They're around here somewhere… they're close.' She narrowed her eyes at a particularly dilapidated looking building. '_There._' Seras hefted the Harkonnen up, and popped out its stand. 'They're in _there._ I can _smell_ them.'

Her eyes closed. Her third eye opened, and the young Vampiress' vision shot forward with incredible speed and clarity – she could see inside the building now, plain as day. The building was crawling with undead, most of them ghouls – Although there were a small band of FREAKs sitting in a semi-circle on the first floor. They had lit candles; it looked as though they were performing a ceremony.

_Master, I found them. There's so many of them. I can't tell what they're doing._

_I see them. _

_What are my orders, Master?_

A deep, menacing laugh resonated through her head.

_Dust to Dust, Seras Victoria. Crush them._

Seras hunkered down over her Harkonnen and narrowed her eyes. She'd take out the second floor first. With amazing deftness, she pulled a shell from her ammunitions case, and slid it easily into the magazine, pulling the action shut with a loud click.

'Acknowledged,' she answered.

'Eh? You see 'em?' Anderson still stood beside her, his fingers wrapped protectively over the grip of the revolver. Despite his past training, he was still a bit shaky with the idea of having to fire a gun, and he silently prayed that the Harkonnen's shell would take it all out in just one shot, without any further commotion. Partly, it would give him a reason to return to Hellsing without any 'insight' as to how they were _any_ better than Iscariot. Partly… he was afraid to die.

'Yeah. There's… a lot.'

'…Damned vile creatures.'

Seras was the last person he'd ever admit being afraid to. If he were to let his guard down even a little, if he were to allow the succubus to have even one shred of him, she'd take everything, and he'd be left as nothing more than husk. He was sure of it. What he didn't realize however, was that he had been projecting, and Seras heard everything he thought about in his head.

_Father… now's not the time to get cold feet._

He bristled at her. 'I _tol'_ ye, stay outta my head!'

'Quiet.' Her command was firm. 'You _have_ to stay quiet.'

It was too late, though, they'd heard him. Seras watched as the vampire coven seemed to grow more alert to an outside presence. The ghouls in the upper levels of the building began to stir, and they moved sluggishly down the stair corridors, some of them pushing others out of the way, causing them to fall over the banisters with a distinct, sloppy _crunch._

'Damnit.' Seras was _not_ happy.

_Take them out now, Seras._

And that was that.

The Harkonnen went off like a bomb, the shell whirring and whistling its way toward the building. When it hit, chaos erupted.

The building moaned and cracked under the explosion, almost as if it were crying in pain. Fire began consuming it quickly. The same could not be said for the ghoul army, however. While Seras' depleted uranium shell had done a significant amount of damage, there was far more of them than she had accounted for. She wondered to herself how so many of them could have resisted the blast, but unfortunately, she had little time before the undead horde began advancing on her and her Catholic compatriot.

'Anderson, your gun! _Now!'_

He didn't hesitate. Skillfully, the Paladin drew the gun from his holster once more, and found it surprising at how easily he got his sights. His hand tightened on the grip, and he steadied himself. Everything seemed as though it was slowing down. He looked straight down the barrel of his gun, and pulled the trigger.

He was astonished at how little kick it had, and how much damage it had done. Walter certainly was right – those bullets _were_ explosive. The one shot had managed to subdue three of the ghouls, and as much as he hated to admit it, he was impressed. He watched with mirth as hot molten silver exploded from within the core of the bullet, raining down on the creatures like holy fire-rain. They groaned and hissed in agony, the liquid hot metal burning through the rotting flesh.

It had been _too_ long. Anderson forgot about how much the hunt thrilled him. He had forgotten about the intense rush of pleasure, the feeling of ecstasy that overtook his entire being. This was just _too_ good. With each shot fired, his excitement increased. The sound of snapping bone – the ghastly noises these unclean demons made; it was all too much. It was a sensory overload, and he loved every blessed second of it. As he made his way through the ghouls, he cackled at them, shouting bits of scripture at them as he turned them to dust. The fire danced in his eyes, and he was more aware of his surroundings than he'd been in the last three months. It felt as though the cotton in his head had been removed. Everything was so clear now, even with the seals… he felt unstoppable.

'Show me some hell, ye demon spawn!' He howled. 'Dance, you Godless Freaks! _Dance!'_

The carnage continued on. Seras and Anderson were merciless, and together their force was double what it would have been individually. For not having any of his regenerative powers at his disposal, Seras was exceptionally impressed with how well he fought, and she made a mental note to laud him for that after all was said and done.

Seras emptied a few more bullets into the last FREAK vampire. With a hissing scream, the creature's eyes rolled back in its head, and disintegrated into dust.

And then…

'F-Father – Anderson… Quick_!_ On your left!'

It happened too quickly. He hadn't had time to react. Something had lunged at him... something big, disgusting, and slavering. Alexander was knocked to the ground, his skull cracking against the pavement, hard. Whatever had tackled him was now pinning him down, breathing hot and heavy into his face.

Slowly, he opened his eyes. Red met yellow. Those eyes weren't human…_ or_ vampire.

'_L-Lycan…'_ he stuttered.

The creature had its massive paw of a hand pressed against his throat, its fangs bared at him in a menacing grimace. A growl emanated from the depths of its gullet, droplets of hot saliva splattering on the Paladin's cheeks. Anderson tried to move, but found himself unable to. _I can't move,_ he thought to himself, his mind in a panic. _I can't move! Cursed bloody Protestant filth.. If not for these seals..._

He struggled as hard as he possibly could, but it was of no use. The monster opened its maw further, more than ready to finish off its prey. Defiantly, Alexander glared up at the beast, bearing his teeth right back at it. If he were to go down like this, he'd go down without being a coward. He could face this creature, whether or not it meant his death.

'Bring it on, ye monstrosity.'

_BANG!_

The beast seemed to be frozen. Its mouth closed, and it seemed to be thinking. Amber eyes left the Paladin, and looked up, instead. Anderson felt the weight lift off of him as the creature got up slowly, and turned. It let out a massive roar as it met its assailant.

_BANG BANG BANG BANG!_

The beast's legs began to shake, and it gurgled, a whimper escaping its unholy mouth. Those ghostly yellow eyes rolled up into its head, and blood began to pour like water from its neck. Smoke rose from the bullet wounds, and slowly, the head slid off of the body as though it was melting ice. The wolfish head tumbled from the shoulders, and landed on the cobblestone ground with a wet _thud._ The body followed suit, and within seconds, the corpse of the creature withered away to ash.

Slowly, Anderson gathered his wits and managed to lift himself up off of the ground into a sitting position. Shakily, he ran his fingers through his hair, almost as if he were trying to make sure he was still completely intact. Thankfully, he was, save for the gash on the back of his skull. It took him a moment to focus, but sure enough, there stood Seras before him, her gun at the ready, barrel still smoking from the last shots fired. Her expression was one of complete terror. Those aqua eyes were wide with concern, and she even looked as though she might cry.

The Draculina let her firearm drop to the ground, and she approached the ex-Priest, extending a hand to him. He accepted it without question, and in one swift move, she hefted him up off of the ground, and after a moment or two of looking him over for signs of damage, allowed a soft laugh to escape her lips.

'...Lycans.' She quipped.

Anderson blinked.

'Y-Yeah,' He replied, more than a little dumbstruck. '...Lycans.'

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** DUN DUN DUN! The plot thickens! :P I will probably draw Anderson in Hellsing uniform later… might not post it here though. If you guys want to keep up with me art offsite, I do have a livejournal account where I post my scribblins. My username there is teapunk!

And as always guys, thanks loads for the reviews. It helps me keep these chapters coming! If there's something you want to see later on, let me know and I'll do my best to add it in!

**edit:** changed the ending 'round :S I was having some trouble with trailing this into chapter eight, and this makes the transition easier :3


	8. VIII

Integra was considerably less than happy. The operation had gone as planned, and that particular little pocket of freaks and ghouls had been wiped off the face of the earth, but there was one detail that worried her more than anything.

'And you are _certain_ it was a Lycan?'

'Ah'm not blind, woman.' Anderson was getting a little exasperated by Integra's ceaseless interrogation. He crossed his broad arms at her, staring her down keenly. Seras stood next to him, visibly shaken. It wasn't that she couldn't handle a Lycan or two – it was the fact that the beast had _literally_ come out of nowhere. She had scented it, but could not isolate it. From the way that Alucard had spoken to her before, he hadn't had much luck either, and that was problematic.

'It was definitely a werewolf,' Seras began. 'I mean… I don't know what else it could've been. Body of a man, head of a wolf… it's pretty text book.'

Integra digested this information, her fingers tapping impatiently against her elbow. Her eyes darted up to her crimson-clad servant, floating carelessly next to the ex-priest.

'And you, Alucard. Why didn't you arbitrate?'

The No-Life king let a deep, menacing chuckle reverberate throughout the room. His perpetual grin grew wider, and he offered only the hint of a shrug.

'Seras is able to handle herself; that much I can count on.' Alucard's grin spread insufferably wide across his face. 'And I wanted to let Angel Dust test his mettle.' He spoke in a sing-song tone.

Integra wrinkled her nose at her pet. That was simply inexcusable. She knew Alucard was of twisted mind; that much was ostensible to anyone who came into contact with him and managed to get away. However, she did not much care for the new blossoming development of petty jealousy in her servant. It wouldn't have been apparent to Seras, but Integra had lived with this creature for eleven years, and she had learned to read his quirks. Jealousy was not something he exhibited in a very blunt way… he was obnoxiously passive-aggressive, and it didn't help that he was taking it recklessly to a new height by endangering her potential ally without consideration.

'Your orders were to search and destroy, Vampire.' Her tone grew cold and sharp. 'I did not order you to test _anyone's_ mettle. This was a _mission_, Alucard, not a training exercise.'

The grin remained, but Alucard did not respond.

'…You will come to my office after we're through here. We will have _words_, servant.'

Anderson did his best to hide his smirk. It was amusing to see Integra reprimand her slave in that way, he had to admit. As far as he was concerned, that red devil had whatever was coming to him. Eternal King of the Dead or not, no man would ever be immune to the verbal lashings of an irate woman, and that was that.

Alucard seemed to be considering his master's demand, and his grin seemed to dissolve slowly.

'You are dismissed for now.' Integra glared at him. In an almost defeated way, he faded, and his aura left the room entirely. He hadn't even bothered to acknowledge her discharge – very uncharacteristic of him.

'As for you two…' Integra sighed, looking the pair over. 'Anderson, you aren't injured, are you? If that Lycanthrope did any damage to you, we may have to – '

'Cracked m'head on the ground _well_ hard, but aside from that, the hell beast did'nae touch me.' Not bothering to look down at Seras, he continued, his voice placid and gentle. 'Yer Vampire lass made sure o'that.'

Integra cast her gaze over to the sheepish Draculina, but said nothing to her. The best she could offer Seras right now was an approving nod. Seras was more than content with that, and swallowed thickly. Something about the way Alexander had addressed her 'good deed' made heat rise to her cheeks, and she couldn't bear to look up, even if he wasn't looking down at her. Was it _really_ necessary to mention that she had saved him?

'And you, Seras?' Integra questioned; her voice still stony and cold. 'It didn't wound you, did it?'

'N-No, sir.' She stammered. 'It never touched me.'

'Very well.'

The platinum-haired Knight chewed on the end of her cigar in thought, making sure that there wasn't anything else that she had to go over before finding Walter to relay the news.

'Anderson, despite this …disturbing news of Lycans,' she began. 'I sincerely hope that you have new insight to the way Hellsing handles such troublesome situations.' A puff of milky white smoke escaped her lips, punctuating the statement.

Arms still crossed over his chest, he gave a grunt, neither approving nor disapproving. Integra supposed that it was the best she could hope for, given the circumstances. She wouldn't pry anymore. Men never cared to have their pride injured; especially not men who were zealous, chauvinistic ex-Catholic Priests. That much was clear.

'You're both dismissed for the evening.'

* * *

><p>The west wing's Library had seen much use in the past three months. It had served as Anderson's sanctuary, a meeting place between the young Vampiress and himself, and at times, a bedroom. Tonight, it served as a makeshift medical ward. Seras had insisted on taking him to the infirmary for the wound to the back of his head, but he'd had more than enough of that place. If he never saw those cold marble corridors again, it'd be only too soon.<p>

'It doesn't look _that_ bad.'

Anderson was seated at the piano bench, leaning over the keys as Seras gingerly inspected the back of his head. Ungloved fingers pushed bloodstained blonde aside to assess the damage.

'It's just a cut, but it's pretty deep… does it hurt?' She pressed a fingertip against it.

'_Ow – _Yes, it bloody _hurts._' He grumbled indignantly. He fought the desire to swat her hand away. '_Bullshit_ is wha' this is. If I had my regenerative abilities, it would'nae even happened. Bein' tended to by a vampire… God save my soul…' The Paladin rolled his eyes at himself in vain.

Seras sighed. She didn't want to get into an argument tonight; her head was already too full. She produced a small bottle of antiseptic spray from the first aid kit she had nicked from the Humvee, removed the cap, and heaved another sigh. This _was_ bullshit.

'Hold still, it might burn.'

Anderson did as she requested, withholding his backtalk. She was right. It burned, but not enough to merit any cursing or protesting. He sat there and waited for the Draculina to finish up her attempt at nursing. She dabbed at the wound gently with a gauze pad, doing her best to clean any debris from it, all the while trying to mind it to avoid unnecessary pain. When the wound looked clean enough, she stood there, considering it for a moment. Softly, Seras brushed his hair out of the way with a few fingers, thinking about that look Anderson had on his face, earlier. It was only there for a moment – so fleeting, but she had absolutely seen it. It was pure, unadulterated _fear._ He had been afraid for his life, a perfect reminder of his newly bestowed mortality. Her eyes darkened, conflict bubbling up inside her once again.

'Yeh done yet, Draculina?' Anderson's tone was sharp. 'I know how blood excites yer type.'

Seras was thrown from her reverie quickly, and then backed away from the man to let him up. He rose slowly, wincing as he did so.

'You… alright?'

'A bit stiff. Damned monster knocked the breath out of me.' There was no mirth in his voice. 'Bloody… stinkin' unholy beasts…'

He skulked over to his chair, and plopped himself down in it without any grace. The Paladin removed his glasses and folded the arms, placing them on the cover of the bible he'd left sitting on the table in front of him. He brought his hand up again and pinched the bridge of his nose while letting loose one of the world's most dramatic sighs, making sure Seras had heard it.

'There'll be no sleep fer me, tonight.'

Seras had to crack a smile at that. As much as it was difficult for her to admit, she'd become accustomed to these late night 'bonding' sessions. If Anderson had ever heard her refer to them as that, though… there'd be hell to pay. Wisely, she said nothing of it.

'Brodie's?' She questioned, gingerly.

He shrugged.

Brodie's it was.

Seras had excused herself from the room, giving Anderson time to think. His head was already pounding from that lovely little fall he'd taken, and thinking wasn't making it any better, but he couldn't help it. At first, all he could think of was that werewolf. Those horrifically dull yellow eyes, staring into his soul. He hadn't felt a surge of emotion so strongly since he'd been an enlisted man… since he tried to take his own life. Frustrated with his impermanence, Anderson pinched the bridge of his nose again, trying to clear his head of the memory of the disgusting creature. Soon, other thoughts found themselves rushing to his head.

Thoughts of Seras.

He thought of how she, in all of her wickedness, had saved him. He thought of how that ugly creature's head slid off of its body after she'd pumped molten hot silver into its neck. He'd thought of her face, so earnest, so afraid for him. How could that be possible? _How_, exactly, could a demoness such as Seras be so exceptionally terrified for a man of the cloth? Not _of_… but _for._ What did it mean? He wanted greatly to accredit it to her dirty, evil tricks. He wanted to attribute it to the fact that she was a succubus, a devilish creature of the night, trying to corrupt his very soul… but it wasn't possible. No woman with eyes like hers could possibly_ ever_ have those intentions.

He'd seen eyes like those in the children he'd watched over. He knew that unmistakable innocence; that unwavering fear and trust and awe all wrapped into one quivering, uncertain package. It simply wasn't possible that a creature such as Seras could manifest those feelings, he told himself. It couldn't be real. His head was fighting with all its might against his heart, and he wasn't sure which one was going to win. He wasn't sure he wanted either to win.

'Oi, tea!'

The Paladin was yanked from the depths of his thoughts by that musical, girlish voice. And sure enough, there was tea; _hot_ tea. He could absolutely go for a cup, right about now.

'Milk and sugar, Alex?'

Seras held her breath momentarily. _**Alex?**__Where on earth did that come from…?_

He quirked an eyebrow at her, and she stood there, deadpan.

'Erm. Well, here's the, uh… milk. And… sugar.'

The young midian set the tray down and Anderson went to work fixing his tea. He didn't care about how hot it was; he needed something to calm his nerves and this would certainly do the trick. If there was one thing Seras had a talent for, it was brewing good, Scottish black tea.

For a while, they both sat in silence. Seras sipped daintily at her drink, while Anderson had one cup… and another… and then another. She watched him, wondering what was going on in that turbulent mind of his. She would do her best to stick to her promise though, no telepathy; despite how extremely tempting it was. His eyes said enough about his frustration to make her want to invade the deepest reaches of his mental confines, but she restrained herself. A promise was a promise.

'You did really well, tonight.' She squeaked.

Anderson pulled himself away from his fourth cup of sugary liquid, and gave her a questioning look.

'I mean,' she stuttered, a bit shaken by his direct stare. 'Y-you handle a gun pretty well. Especially one that big.'

Seras offered him a smile, but he did not reciprocate.

'Would'nae needed it, had these seals not been stuck t'me.'

'You know, you wouldn't be alive without those.'

'That might've been fer the best.'

She sat there in silence again, digesting his words. Minutes passed by as she attempted to dissect his thought patterns. How could this be so unbearable to him? She simply couldn't understand it. Why did he fight so strongly against the gift of life? _How conflicted he must be,_ she thought. How _dearly_ she wanted to invade his mind. Oh well… if she couldn't use her powers, she'd just have to do it the old fashioned way.

'Do you believe in fate, Father?'

He lowered his cup again, giving the question his full attention. Fate was a matter he considered himself to be quite well versed on.

'I believe tha' every creature walkin' this earth has a destination,' He began. 'I believe tha' the Holy Father gives each 'o us a charge, a mission tae carry out while we exist in corporeality.'

His eyes were locked with the Draculina's, bright emerald with Aqua.

'When we complete our duty to th 'Lord, he rewards us. He bestows upon us th' gift of everlasting life in Heaven.' His grip on the cup tightened. 'An' some of us choose to _waste_ that gift. Some of the Lord's creatures, like _you_,' He continued. 'Choose to not accept it.' His words stung her.

Seras' lips tightened and she looked on at the ex-priest. She felt a knot form in her throat.

'That's why my life is an abomination unto the Lord.' He looked down at his cup, a melancholy expression on his face. Seras could count the amount of times she'd seen him look genuinely _sad_ on one hand.

'But…' she began, her words coming quietly. 'You didn't waste it.'

Anderson looked up, perplexed. 'How d'you mean?'

'You didn't _waste_ his gift, Anderson.' Seras leaned forward. 'You were _dead_ when we found you.'

He could only stare at her.

'Half your face was… well, it was missing. Your left arm was not much of an arm; there were _pieces_ of you… literally everywhere. You were shattered, completely.'

Despite her warm tone, Anderson did not particularly care to be reminded of his disgraceful defeat, handed to him by Alucard.

'When Sir Integra found you, she was originally planning to have what was left of you shipped back to the Vatican, but…'

Seras paused, not sure whether or not she should continue on. There was a great deal of information he had not been made aware of, and she could hardly believe that _this_ particular piece of had not been disclosed to him. She assumed that Integra would have at least made him aware of something _this _important.

'That… nail was still stuck inside of your chest.' She sighed. 'It was still coursing energy through you… I guess Sir Integra knew what to do with it, I'm not sure…'

Anderson stared blankly at her, his eyes wide, his expression one of disbelief.

'I don't think God was done with you.' Seras shrugged, her tone becoming bolder. 'If he'd been done with you, that nail wouldn't have been there. You wouldn't have responded… like you did when we put those seals on you. You wouldn't have started regenerating, again… We wouldn't have even _found_ you.'

'Wh… What?'

'If what you say is true, about God giving us missions and all – I mean, I don't think your mission is over. I think he let you keep that nail because he wanted you here, with _us_. You still have work to do for him, Father. I just… I think that maybe, Rome was just the wrong place for you.'

This was just too much. How on earth… What could he possibly say? Anderson lifted his hand shakily, pressing his fingers over his chest. Yes – she was _right._ It _was_ there, he could feel its energy! The ex-priest swallowed thickly and kept his hand right where it was. This was too much. He could barely process it. She was _right._ _She was bloody right!_

'I… cannae… believe…'

Seras knit her brows and waited. The look of disbelief and confusion on the poor Paladin's face was almost too much for _her_ to bear. He kept his hand over his heart, and set the teacup down. There were a million emotions emanating from him, and they radiated towards her like heat from a furnace. Sadness, joy, relief, anger, humiliation, desperation, they all flowed out of him and surrounded her. She drew them in like a sponge, but not of her own accord. She couldn't help it, it was in her nature to absorb everything… blood or emotion made no difference. No amount of mental barricading could prevent it.

The Draculina didn't seem to think twice. She rose from her seat, strode over to the shaken man, and embraced him.

He barely moved, but Seras didn't care. How could Integra have omitted this information? How could she have hidden it from him? Not only was he being forced to serve alongside what he discerned as demons, but he hadn't even been fully informed of the circumstances behind his reanimation. Seras was angry with her Master's master for that, and she would be sure to address it the next chance she got. For now, she felt as though she had to stay with the Paladin. He made no request of her to do so, but his spilling emotion had a hold on her.

The midian rested her chin on his shoulder, her arms wrapped around his neck. Never in a _lifetime_ would she have _ever_ thought that she'd find herself in this position – comforting one of her former enemies. For the longest time, she'd had an immense fear of him. For the longest time, she could not consider him human. He was an instrument of God – a Regenerator; a dangerous and formidable challenger, even for her Master, Alucard. And now, what was he? He was a man, wrapped in her arms. He was a man whose faith had been simultaneously crushed and reaffirmed. He was _vulnerable_.

'My God, My God…' He muttered, his voice muffled by her shoulder. 'Forgive me. Please Lord, forgive me.'

He was barely conscious of the Draculina holding him. He was so wrapped up in his own astonishment and revelation that he was barely aware of her hands on him. How could he have been so blind? He questioned himself over and over again. How could he have been so pompous as to assume that the Lord had been _abandoned_ him? He understood now. He understood why he hadn't felt the Almighty's presence. He knew – The Lord had been waiting for him to open his eyes – his _heart. _Was it a test? He couldn't be sure. All he knew at that very moment was the sensation that he'd been without for so long. That great surge of sanctified power began to flow within him once again, and he felt stronger. He felt _new._

'You don't have anything to apologize for,' she offered. 'You didn't know. I thought Sir Integra… I thought she'd told you. Or, the doctors even! God, I can't believe they didn't tell you!'

Slowly, Anderson brought his hands up over Seras' shoulders, and he separated her from him. At first, she went still – she wasn't sure if she had upset him. Normally, it would have been fairly easy to tell… however, with all of this sensation surging around her, it was hard for Seras to discern what was her doing, and what wasn't.

Anderson had her by the shoulders, now. Her eyes widened, and she swallowed, hoping to God that she hadn't offended him. She wanted to _help_ him, not hurt him. The expression on his face was very difficult to read… it was placid, but serious. His eyes were alight with fire, and slowly, just the barest hint of a smile crept up onto his lips. Awkwardly, Seras reciprocated, still unsure of what exactly to do.

'Thanks fer the tea, lassie.' He offered. The response was not what she'd been expecting, exactly.

The young vampiress watched him as he stood. He towered over her, and she got up as well, if only for to move out of his way. The Paladin heaved a sigh, rubbed the back of his neck, and then reached for his glasses and bible. The glasses went on, their lenses flashing in the dim light of the room, and the bible was tucked safely under his arm. He had such an air of _purpose_ about him, and Seras kept on smiling, feeling something akin to relief. She wasn't sure where he was going or what he was going to do, but there was an aura of positivity that she had _never_ felt around him before.

'If you'll excuse me, now…' He began.

'I think… I think I've got quite a bit 'o prayin' to do.'

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** Whew. This was a super fun chapter to write. I love doing the interaction between Seras and Alex… I'm trying not to make it too schmoopy too fast, but boy oh boy is it ever tempting, hahaha :3

Anyways, you guys seemed to enjoy my last little bit of arting, so here is another one for your perusal:

http : / i54 . tinypic . com / orl55w . png

As per usual, remove the spaces and copypaste it to your browser. :3


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